Original. LOVEWELL'S FIGHT. BY SEBA SMITH. "Old men shall shake their heads and say, Old New England Ballad. LET us turn for a moment from the airy creations of fancy and imagination, which grace so large a portion of these pages, to the contemplation of a sober historical incident. I do not believe, Mr. Editor, that your twenty thousand fair readers, will grudgingly descend from the regions of romance and poetry to review with me a stern passage in real life. The earlier history of our country abounds in incidents of romantic and thrilling interest, which are scarcely surpassed in the brilliant regions of fiction, and which, though floating in loose and ill-digested masses in pamphlets, public addresses, and old records, will one day become embodied in a history of uncommon value and unrivalled interest. The long and bloody catalogue of Indian hostilities which have marked every section of our territory, from the time the English settlements were commenced at James town and Plymouth down to the present day, presents scenes of heroic daring, toilsome endurance, poignant suffering, and sanguinary conflict, which may challenge the world for parallels. shire, under the command of Captain John Lovewell, in the spring of 1725. In their first excursion they found a wigwam containing one Indian and a boy. They killed and scalped the Indian and carried the boy captive to Boston, where they received not only the reward offered by law, but a handsome present besides. On their second excursion they discovered a party of ten Indians asleep around a fire in the night. They killed every one, and with the ten scalps stretched on hoops and elevated on poles they entered Dover, N. H. in triumph on the twenty-fourth of February. They then proceeded to Boston and received a thousand pounds out of the public treasury. Stimulated by success, Lovewell now conceived the bold design of marching a hundred miles in the wilderness and attacking the Piquawket tribe at their principal village on the Saco, where now stands the pleasant village of Fryeburg. His company seconded him with zeal, and all things were soon in readiness for the important and daring campaign. In this enterprise of so much hazard and solemnity, they were accompanied both by a surgeon and chaplain. The chaplain's name was Jonathan Frye, a young gentleman of liberal education, who had been graduated at Harvard College two years before, and was much beloved for his amiable qualities, and for his while dying of his own wounds. The other officers unpious devotions for the company during the battle, and der Captain Lovewell were Lieutenant Farwell, Lieutenant Wyman, and Ensign Robbins. But few of the names in this brave band have been preserved to us. The primitive muse however, from which we have already quoted at the head of this article, has handed down one other name to us in a marked and particular manner, mainly, it would seem, on account of his domes tic relations. The strain is as follows: "With Lovewell brave John Harwood came; "Repress that tear, my Mary, dear, Said Harwood to his loving wife; And seek in distant woods the strife. Lovewell's Fight, of which we propose to give a brief account at this time, occurred one hundred and fifteen years ago; May 8, old style, 1725. The scene of the action was in the present town of Fryeburg, in the State of Maine, about fifty miles inland from Portland, and thirty or forty from the White Mountains of New Hampshire. That part of the country at that time was one deep and wide wilderness. There were a few scattered settlements along the coast of Maine, south of the Kennebec; but at the time of Lovewell's fight, it is said there was no white inhabitant residing within fifty miles of his battle ground. For many years the white inhabitants had suffered exceedingly from the incursions of the savages. The Penobscots, the Norridgewocks, the Androscoggins, and the Pequawkets had committed the most cruel and bloody excesses year after year upon the defenceless inhabitants of Maine and the frontier settlements of New Hampshire. Incited by the French settlers in Canada as well as their own warlike and bloodthirsty natures, they had broken up settlement after settlement, murdering most of the inhabitants and carry-surgeon and chaplain, and all things being in readiness, ing off the rest into tedious and almost hopeless captivity. they marched from Dunstable on the 16th of April into These outrages roused the government of Massachusetts, the deep wilderness. After they had made some prowho at this time held jurisdiction over the territory both gress in their march, two of the company became lame of New Hampshire and Maine, to more vigorous mea- and returned; and when they had reached within about sures for the protection of the inhabitants. Men and twenty-five or thirty miles of Pequawket, another fell money were liberally furnished for this purpose, and to sick and was unable to proceed. Here they stopped give a stronger stimulous to the exertion of the volunteer and went to work and built a small stockade fort, both companies, a hundred pounds sterling was offered for for the accommodation of their sick companion, whom every Indian scalp that should be brought in. A volun- they must now leave behind, and for a place of retreat, teer company of brave, daring and determined spirits, of which they might avail themselves should circumwas organized in the town of Dunstable, New Hamp-stances require it. Here they deposited a good portion "Thus left young Harwood babe and wife, The whole company numbered forty-six, including "Anon there eighty Indians rose, Who hid themselves in ambush dread; "Good heavens! they dance the Powow dance; The eagle seeks the distant hill. A severe and hot battle now commenced. This was about ten o'clock in the morning. A well-directed fire was opened on both sides with great spirit and deadly effect. Captain Lovewell and eight of his men soon fell dead on the battle-field, and Lieutenant Farwell and two others were wounded. "John Lovewell, captain of the band, His sword he waved, that glittered bright, "Fight on, fight on, brave Lovewell said, of their provisions, and in a most noble, heroic and benevolent spirit they left their surgeon to accompany the sick man, although going right into battle themselves. They also left eight of their soldiers for a guard. Thus reduced to thirty-four in number, this forlorn hope again set forward in search of their ferocious and blood-thirsty foe. When they approached near the Saco river they came to a pond, and encamped for the night. Early next morning, which was the eighth of May, (or nineteenth, N. S.) and the day which was to decide the fate of their daring enterprise, while they were at their morning devotions, they heard the report of a gun, and on looking round beheld an Indian about a mile distant on a point of land running into the pond. Suspecting that they had been discovered, and that the Indian had been placed there to decoy them, they concluded the hour of conflict was at hand, and prepared for action. They divested themselves of their packs, which they piled together and left without a guard, and supposing a body of the enemy to be in the woods between them and the point of land where the straggling Indian stood, they marched forward with loaded muskets towards the point. Their conjecture, however, was erroneous, and was the means of leading them into a position of extreme peril attended with the most severe and melan-they retreated to a more favorable position by the side choly consequences. While on their march through the woods they encountered a single Indian, who proved to be the same one they had seen on the point. Some of the party fired upon him without effect. The Indian returned their fire, and wounded Captain Lovewell and one of his men with small shot, his charge having been prepared for shooting ducks on the pond. A second fire brought the Indian lifeless to the ground. History and song both agree in giving the honor of this first victory to Lieutenant Wyman. Our ancient and unknown bard gives the record thus: "Seth Wyman, who in Woburn lived, "The savage had been seeking game, He shriek'd, and fell to rise no more. Having taken the scalp of this Indian, and finding no more of the enemy in that direction, they turned back to the spot where they had left their packs. In the meantime a party of Pequawket hunters and warriors, headed by their chief, Paugus, returning from a scouting tour down the Saco, had fallen upon the trail of Lovewell's march, which they followed 'till they came to the packs. These they counted, and inferring from the number that the force of the enemy was much inferior to their own, they placed themselves in ambush and waited to attack them on their return. When Lovewell's party came up to the spot where they had left their packs they found they had been removed. In the moment of consternation, when they were casting round to see if they had missed the spot, or if their packs were any where in sight, the savages rose and rushed towards them, rending the air with their shrill and horrid war-whoop. Again the old ballad helps us on with our description. And Lovewell closed his eyes in death. The Indians also suffered severely from the galling fire of Lovewell's gallant band, and many of them fell to rise no more. But being much superior in numbers they now endeavored to surround the remnant that remained of their foe, which the little band perceiving Here of the pond. Here they had the pond on their rear, on ""Twas Paugus led the Pequa't tribe ; And shot him dead upon that day. The fate of the young and accomplished chaplain seems to have excited peculiar sympathy. He fought THE HONEY-LOCUST AND THE MORNING-GLORY. 201 news that the company was eut down, and "he alone had escaped" to bring the sad tidings. Upon which the inmates of the fort speedily set out upon their homeward march. The returning company found some provisions at the fort, which saved them from famine, and after thus being recruited they pursued their slow and painful march in separate detachments according as they were able to move, and with the exception of some of the wounded who died on the way, reached at last the frontier settlements and their homes. by the side of his companions with great determination | supposed that all was over, and fled to the fort with the and courage 'till about the middle of the afternoon, wher he received a mortal wound that disabled him from further action. Still he exerted himself to cheer and encourage the little band, and several times prayed aloud with much fervor for their preservation and success. He had a tender conversation with Lieutenant Farwell: told him he was mortally wounded, and desired him, should he escape, to convey his dying blessing to his parents and comfort them in their affliction. The closing scene of this interview is touchingly described in the fine old ballad from which we have already so largely drawn. "Lieutenant Farwell took his hand, His arm around his neck he threw, "The Chaplain on kind Farwell's breast I love thee, soldier, fare thee well. Harwood was not permitted to return to "wife and babes," whose sad and tender parting has already been described. "John Harwood died, all bathed in blood, By the skilful and unceasing firing of Lovewell's men, the Indian forces were gradually thinned off during the day; their war-cries became fainter and fainter, and just before night they yielded the field, carrying off their killed and wounded, and as evidence of their weakness and brokenness of spirit they left the dead bodies of Lovewell and his men unscalped. It was afterwards ascertained that forty-five of the Indians were killed during the engagement, and many more wounded. The little heroic band came off with victory at last; but what a victory! "Ah, many a wife shall rend her hair, The remnant of the company at the close of the day, collecting themselves together, found there were nine only who had escaped unhurt. Eleven of the wounded were able to march, but the Chaplain, and Lieutenant Farwell, Ensign Robbins and one other had not strength to leave the battle-ground. There was no alternative, and painful as it was, these must be left to die alone in the woods. They thought it probable the Indians would return again in force the next day, and Ensign Robbins desired them to lay his gun by him charged, that in case he should live 'till they returned he might be able to kill one more. After the rising of the moon the little band, with the consent of their dying companions, left the battle field, and made the best of their way towards the fort where the surgeon and guard had been left, hoping to recruit and return with fresh hands to look after the dead and dying. But when they reached the fort, to their great surprise they found it deserted. It turned out that one of the company in the first onset of the battle, seeing Lovewell and eight of the men fall, This bold and severe battle had such an effect upon the Indian tribes, that they did not renew their hostilities in that quarter for many years afterwards. The centennial return of this hard-fought day was celebrated, May 19, 1825, on the battle ground, by the inhabitants of Fryeburg and the adjacent country, and an elegant address was delivered on the occasion by Charles S. Davies, Esq. of Portland. It is one of those events in the earlier history of our country fraught with too much interest to be forgotten. The name of the lamented Frye lives in the name of the town which white men have built up on the fair domain of Paugus, and the unfortunate Lovewell has bequeathed his cognomen to the little lake whose waters were stained with his blood. We take leave of the subject in the full belief that the prophetic language of our bard will be true prophecy for many a century to come. "With footsteps slow shall travellers go Where Lovewell's Pond shines clear and bright, Original. THE HONEY-LOCUST AND THE MORNING-GLORY. - BY RUFUS DAWES. LIKE to each other in celestial meaning "But why," my friend demands, Original. Kaskaskia," one of the oldest towns in Illinois, sixty SKETCHES IN THE WEST-No. III. five miles from St. Louis. The original settlers were BY THE AUTHOR OF "LAFITTE," "CAPTAIN KYD," ETC., ETC. || the mouth of the river and Kaskaskia are three or four Embryo towns, but none of any great importance, except Chester, pleasantly situated on the side of a hill, and a place of some business. These towns are merely marts for the produce of the surrounding farms, and their principal and, indeed, only trade, consists in freighting flatboats and steamboats in the fall and winter with thousands of bushels of grain. The farms, back from the river, are very rich and highly cultivated. The mere river traveller can form no idea of the farming prosperity of Illinois, (for that is the side of the river best cultivated.) The lands on the river, are either abrupt hills, or low meadow land of recent formation, and however such may add to the picturesqueness or sublimity of the scenery, they can give no correct idea of the agricultural wealth of the country. As I am only a river traveller, it will not be expected of me to describe Illinois; there is enough around me, if properly managed, to supply my pen with inexhaustible material, without the necessity of making detours into the interior of the State, which I may skirt in my steam French, and the society which is among the best in the west, is composed of many old French families. The majority of the citizens are Roman Catholics. They THIS morning, when the passengers went upon the have there the oldest Church (Edifice) in the western guard to perform their customary ablutions in the tin- country. The town is pleasant and wears an old, quiet basins, they were agreeably surprised, after sailing for look. I am told it is a delightful summer residence. so many days between level banks covered with gloomy It is situated a mile back from the river on a plain with forests, to behold towering around them, lofty hills a range of hills partially cultivated, beyond. There is wooded to their summits, and cliff's-not of earth, like a road from the landing place to the town, that passes the Mississippi bluffs-but of solid rock, broken into a through a wood which nearly hides the village, from the thousand fantastic shapes and over-hanging the water in trenches on the river; nevertheless, I obtained glimpses innumerable romantic attitudes. We have been running of it through vistas in the forest as we passed. The all day through an interesting region. The river is sen-scenery around Kaskaskia is very beautiful. Between sibly decreased in width, and agreeably varied in its features. The signs of population are more frequentfarms are better cleared and cultivated, and hills divested of trees, are shining with fields, which cover their sides, give an old air to the country. To-day I discovered the first natural lawn on the river banks since I left Baton Rouge. The shores of the Mississippi between Natches and Cape Giradeau, even on the best cultivated farms, patches of short grass, but all an unsightly ploughed surface, or else grey with decayed vegetable matter. A plot of grass is a great relief to the river voyager's eye, and he hails it with delight.The grass that we now see is not green, however, except in some sunny spot, beside a stream. All nature wears the livery of winter without his snows. A grey, sombre coloring is spread over field and forest. How sudden is the change we have experienced! Eight days ago we left the woods clothed in foliage, and here, not a leaf is visible; the ragged and melancholy trees, monuments of winter's long and severe reign, in this northern cliIn one week we have changed the mild air, vegetation and beauty of June, (to speak to a northen- || ing. er's ideas,) for the bleak winds, the inhospitable fields, and deformity of December. A more sudden change could not be effected without a percepible effect upon the constitution. The increase of the cold, from day to day, was marked by additional garments and the other usual signs of change of latitude. The ladies who at first walked the guards without hats or shawls, began to call first for one and then the other. The deck at length became uncomfortable, and finally after passing New Madrid they deserted the guards altogether, and gathered around the fire, which was made in the ladies' cabin the fourth day from New Orleans and in the gentlemen's the fifth. The gentlemen began to give note of a change in the atmosphere, by substituting thick coats for bomba-wide, as one would imagine, by this constant approach zine, and woolen pantaloons for white drilling ones, which some of them had worn during the first four days. The card players sought to get their table within the precincts of the stove. The passengers tell me they have felt the change of climate very sensibly, and for myself I do not feel more annoyed at it than a Mississippian, at a cold, chilly day in the last of April, after one of those balmy, and sunny days, which make his own clime above any other in the Mississippi valley. mate. We passed late this evening the landing place "of St. Geneveive, an agreeable looking place, which we passed this evening, is one of the oldest towns in the West; Vincennes is only a little more ancient. St. Geneveive was originally three miles from the river; at present it is on its banks. Within less than eighty years the Mississippi, by washing away the shore for several miles on this side, has gradually approached the town. As the bank yielded on one side, land made on the other, and now an extensive flat alluvion, broken into islands, covered with cotton trees, stretches away on the opposite shore. It is one of the laws of this river to make land opposite every bank which is washing away. So that the current, instead of being often several miles of one shore as the other recedes, always preserves the same uniform width. The rapidity with which land makes in the Mississippi will be seen from the quick formation of a large island opposite St. Geneveive. Eight years ago, a boat was sunk in deep water, two hundred yards from the shore. The wreck became at once the nucleus of an island. The sand heaped around it, floating logs and trees were lodged against it, and in two years an island of half buried drift-wood, with a wide border or beach of sand, stood permanently above the surface. The cotton tree shoots, to which such soil seems congenial sprung up the third year. Every succeeding flood covered the island with an additional stratum; and it is now a dense forest of cotton-wood trees, some of them twenty feet high. To an uninformed observer, the isle has the appearance of being coeval with the surrounding shores. Selma, a small " landing place" on the river, is worthy of notice as being the port of Potosi, fifteen miles back. Herculaneum, five miles above it, was formerly the port, but the encroachment of the river caused Selma to be substituted. There are two or three other places of minor importance between Kaskaskia and St. Louis, but none that deserves a particular description. The scenery, as we approach St. Louis, from which we are now fifty miles distant, becomes more romantic. The character of the scenery for the last one hundred miles it is difficult to describe. It is unlike that upon the Ohio and Hudson, yet sharing the characteristic features of both. We are now passing a cliff one hundred and fifty feet high, which in every thing but height resembles the palisadoes on the latter, and were I to give the wall of perpendicular cliffs, we have been sailing beneath for the last hour, a name from a drawn resemblance, I should term them the Palisadoes of the Mississippi. About noon to-day we found ourselves sailing amid an amphitheatre of hills, bounding the horizon on every side through a sort of circular valley, ten miles in width, through which the river flowed, and I was reminded by the view around me of the Ohio in the vicinity of Madisonville. The hills on the Mississippi are not so high | or grand as those on the Ohio, but they are much more beautiful; often appearing in the distance, on account of the thinness of the forest trees, with which they are crested, as if fringed. Nothing can be more picturesque than the long ranges of undulating hill-tops, with a regular row of trees fringing their outlines for miles. The hills of the Ohio are rough, wild, and full of savage grandeur: those of the Upper Mississippi appear as if nature had played the gardener on them, as she has done in the prairies. The hills, we have passed to-day, are clothed with verdure and thinly scattered (like an English park) with trees. For leagues they stretch along now on one side, and now on the other side of the river; every hill whose base is washed by the river being most invariably opposed by an intervale, sometimes extending four or five miles back before it terminates in the hills of the interior. The river, indeed, between Cape Giradeau and St. Louis, seems to flow through a valley about six miles in width, which valley is confined by the hills, I have mentioned, and which are the commencement of the hilly country proper of Illinois and Missouri. In this valley nature has allowed the river to play, shaping its course at will, now washing the bases of the hills on the left, leaving a level meadow to the right, five or six miles wide, to the opposite high lands, now making a broad sweep to the right, leaving the meadow on the left; thus showing the observer, hill and meadow alternately on both sides. The hills sometimes approach the river in spears, terminating in perpendicular precipices of lime-stone. By some operations in Nature, the angular projections of It is BENEATH me are the rock-bound streams, That all the earth with glory fills. Thy power let all the earth proclaim !- Ten thousand transports speak thy name, Within this wild, primeval dome, Where untaught music deeply thrills; RODNEY L. ADAMS. |