Erie observer. (Erie, Pa.) 1830-1853, June 22, 1848, Image 1

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    VOLUME 19.
THE WEEKLY OBSERVER,
aria PA:
SATURDAY MORNING JULY 22, 1848
WHAT THE WHIGS SAID OF GEN. TAYLOR
Since Gen. Taylor hasforred the whigs to take hint as
their ,candidate against the will of vino-tenths of the
ian‘, 'and in the-face of his own declaration that unless
should nominate him, he would run as anindepentl
tut candidate, Democrats cannot be Maimed for disen
tcnibing some of the sayings of those WhOttow profess to,
Tigard him as the embodiment of all that is groat as a
f latesman, soldier and scholar. But, say these consistent
7 ,atletneu, this is what wo said before his nomination—
hating been notninated, we are bound as good party
men, to waive our first preferences and support him.—
.Centletnen whigs, every lino that contained an argument
xinst him then, is an argument against hint now—a
bake of tho course of his present friends—a bitter M
oth to the bravo man you now wish to make a tool of.—
If Gen. Taylor was unfit' for President six months since,
is unfit now. But we forbear comment, and leave the
, Aloa ing from the Boston Atlas, two weeks before Gon.
Tailor was nominated, to speak for itself. The Atlas,
r .,‘,lleet, is the loading whig paper in New England, and
goes for Taylor, as this fully proves, without "why,
• wherefo - Vo;"
"We belly° it is well known by ibis timoihat wo aro
It in favor of-the nomination of Gen. Taylor.
. .
We haVe done many things for our party not agreca
y„ to IN but we never yet tried to delude any persons
:,..intbrined than ourselves into the belief that a man
~.I L General Taylor's qualities ought to be President of
Fnited States. Wo make no doubt that there aro
ivn in Mr. .layly's district, Virginia, who believe that
II
i
,noal 'fa) or is moderately well informed, but we shall
:I , t Iva ad of r reputation, in this land of free schools,? by
sanng that we believe there is oat: person in Tills COM
ficallealth, with a beard on, who believes any such
thing. . I
But he is arailahle, it is said. lotions tier has not nu
impana!, twee cow•idered as . Iwiving some thing to do
,ah ;wall billy. A certain - than was once made l',:s YER
MI bt eLmi.e of iiiii.i eellilTY:--eftell one of his electors,
I r , )1111V, 10 he ehown, threw his vote for th'e weakest man
'lll the a...enibl, electing — hint almost unanimously, to
!Co. a•foni.liment a a ll. .
Ne know there aro men of good senso not, aide to
F:ngli4h, but wo do not think any each need
tar General Tay for as a rival, except in the ratter re
p - lewditrer, it strikes us, as to what makes avail
.,lo‘. Now the fact that a man introduced. "b100d
,.m1." into the Florida war to hunt down - the Semi
, due. , not make hint, in our mind, any more avail
-3N 3 candidate for the Presidency; nor is our entlm
,lll neakeued overmuch by the fact, that in this age
:,311 01% n, two or three hundred slaves, and works them
Stoics as Louisiana and Illississippi. The fact
a :loa n Ilan not slept under n roof for sonic time,
110 could have done so, might commend him to the
14-Heads or the Choctaws, but we really don't see
.tv nis going to prepare him for the White house.
it don't mind a Roust" OITII OR TWO when a man
I• the tooth-ache or the gout, but we cannot see how a
.Lt of calling upon "St nboro" for aid, is going to make
Ina available with two or hundred thousand
on•van voters.
eishe-tency we know is not an available quaffs but a
I memory is, and a s (Tuning regard for the tram itc
rih!e: The indention. !Twos er, governs; ice can there
, overlook the directly Apposite statements in Geu.
aloes letters of August 3d, 1817, and April :Nth, 1848.
us he says a man of some experimme in state affairs
nld be selected,(as a candidate for the presidency,)
I that ho would cheerfully are - init.:we in such a choice
m the other, lie says that the reports, that lie would do
. circulating in the northern papers, have no founds
is in "any verbal or written statement of (mine) his."
1(• mistake wan probably made by , the' letter-writers,
ho mrem to be as careless of his interests' as aro some
!the editorial friends of ,11r. Webster of his.
it rumored that there are men in Boston—wr. have
am them-4who compare Gen. Taylor to Washing-
MI we have to say is, that such gentlemen are ex
i!suzlv ironical, and we are-glad for their sakes that
•lengton left no immediate heir over-sensitive about
111:siGNATI.ON OF GOVERNOR SQUNK
►'runt the Ilarrithurg Democratic Union.
t becomes our pitiful duty to announce to the people
Peon:lvania, that by an insertable decree of Provi
ie.', our titost excellent Governor has been laid on a
of Hckne,s, from which there now seems to be no
- 0" of restoration: and with that magnanimity which
• eltararteri , ed all his acts, of his own free will and ac
d. without a single suggestion hating been made to
by any of his com 7 titutioppl advisers, ho has resigned
the baud~ of the peopi• the trust with which they had
th••d him, in order that they may I choosc a successor at
election to take place on the second Tuceday of Oc
,er next.
In all his public' nets the good of the people has been
-last the heart of the Governor, and this solemn duty
.1 all human probability the last public act of his life—
euhas in its true light the character of Governor Shunk,
tb mg prayer seems to be that the will of the pee
'- of dui Commonwealth may be carried out. .Our pen
uls cc to speak' on this subject as we would desire; we
efore cl)se with presenting to the public theresigna
ch,,f Elie Governor, witnessed by Henry Buehler, - Esq.,
:lie Rev. Dr. DeWitt, Pastor of the Presbyterian
Larch of our borough,
Aepropl e of Pennsylrania:
It truing pleased Divine Providence to deprive me of
• mength necessary to the further discharge of the du
of tour Chief Magistrate, and to lay me on a bedof
'kne., from which I rim admonished by my physicians
''i tm own increasing debility, I may, in all human pro
:u},
dt:„ never rise, 1 have resolved, upon mature reflect.
.1 under a conviction of duty, on this day, to restore to
' l . the trust with which your suffrages have clothed
m order that you may avail yourselves of the provi
on of the Constttaion, to choose a successor at the next
, cneral olection. 1 therefore, hereby, resign the office
Governor of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and
reel this, Inv resignation, to - be,filed in the office of the
• , reran' of lite commonwealth.
In taking leave of you, under circumstances go solemn,
•Pfili my gratitude for the confidence you have reposed
:sly prover is, that peace, virtue. intelligence and
• , i 'z l ". may prevado all your borders—that the free in -
.'ition s )ou have inherited from your ancestors, may
-2.1111 min:Tared till the latest posterity—that the same
:Providence,- which has already, so signally, blessed
may conduct you to a still higlier state of individual
,n tiarhappiness-- : and when the world shall close
)ou, as I feel it is soon about to close upon me, that
"'" enjoy the consolations of the Christian's faith,
‘,/ be 'gathered, without a wanderer lost, into the fold
ite Great Shepherd above.
I litrosio:Ro, July 9. 18,18. FRS. R. SHUNK.
1 7' The Boston Times assures the public that there
no Democrats among the ton thousand persons at
iitag the late Worchester Convention. Not - even the
Mr. Morton, the self-elected delegate to most of
cent bolting Conventions.
We learn from Cincinnati. that no ono who for
past had acted with the democratic jiarty. ParticiPa
ci the recent Van Buren disunion meeting in that
over which the foderalista and sore-heads and just
A' "idea in g." Chase, tho orator for the occasion, has
'ct , oltd a democratic ticket, and Taylor, of the Sig
"" scam the chief busybody, voted for Burney in
•st. o they go.
Tho L'ourer des Estate Unis. the French paper
tilitheti at New York, remarking upon Gen. Taylor's
-l a:nonen for the Presidency, pays the following neat
''Plenent to Gen. CAS3I-..../t will in all probability,
tuli in giving to the Union a President of rare modesty
traplicitv, of singularly correct judgment. and of
..ed •inceiltv."
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THE CONSTITUTION OF THE FREN,CII
REPUBLIC.
FROM GALLIGNANI'S MESSENGER, Suitt 20.
The sitting of the National Assembly yesterday, was
marked by a most important event—the presentation of
the draft of the constitution for the French Republic.—
This important document, which was read to the As=
sembly by M. Armand Marra.st, the reporter of the Spe
cial committee appointed to draw it up, excited the dot p
est interest, and was listened to in religious silence. It
consists of one hundred and thirty-nine articles, and tho
following are the principal points set forth in them : '
The Legislative power is to consist of ono National
Assembly, composed of 750 representatives, elected for
three years, by universal suffrage. The head of tho
Republic is to be a President, nominated for four years
by universal suffrage; any person can be elected who has
attained the ago of 30 years, and is a French citizen.—
The President cannot bo re-elected, unless four years
have elapsed from leaving before held the chief office in
'the repuline. ; the President to be lodged at the expense
of the republic, with a salary of 600,000 fr. a year. A
Vice President is to bo named by the National Assembly,
also for four years, Out of a list presented by the Presi
dent ; he is to replac'e the President when absent; should
the Presidentship beCome vacant by deceits°, resignation,
or any other cause, the Vice President does not then take
his,plaee„ but a new 'erection is proceeded to within a
4pe
riod of one month. A Council of State, consisting of a t
least forty members, i to be elected by ballot for three
years by the National Assembly, in the first month of
each legislature ; should any member of the Assembly
be chosen, a now election shall be immediately proceed
ed to, to supply their place as representatives of the peg
phi ; the Council of State aro todraw up such bills as the
government may think fit to bllblllit to tho Assembly;
and to examine such bills as emanate from the Assembly
itself ; it is also to exercise full control over the depart
mental and mon'cip4administrations—all courts of jus
tice ore to be open, and the jury s)stein to be extended
to certain correctional and civil matters, to be determined
by law ; the judges of premiere instance and appeal, are
nominated by the President of the Republic, and the
judges of the Court of Cassation by the National As
sembly, and all for life ; a high court of justice is to bo
appointed for the purpose of judging without . appeal all
accusations made by the National Assembly, either
against one of its own members, or against the minis
ters, or against the President; also all persons accused
of plots or treason against the state, are to be tried by
this high tribunal. The practice of having substitutes
in the army is interdicted—the punishment of death is
abolished for political offences—slavery is abolii4fied in all
the French erovinees—the press is free—and ever!' mar;
a right to print, or cause to be printed whatever lie plea
ses, subject to such guarantees to the state as 'may be
deemed necessary—the censorship is forever abolished—
all religions are allowed in France, and the various min
isters of the religions recognized by the state arc to be
paid—public instruction is to be free, bni subject to the
superintendenee of the State. The national debt is
guaranteed--property - is inviolable—gratuitous educa :
tiutlls 10 he given .to the working classes, so as to prepare
them fur their different tailings—labor is to be essential
ly guaranteed by opinlity'of rob.tionA bctineeit the b%4.1,-
men and the employers by the establishment of great
public works, Algeria and the colonies are French ter
ritory, and to be governed by special land—tho Legion
of Honor P 4 to be maintained.. Such are the principal
features of this all-important document.
A SCOUNDREL
The New Orlemis aening Mercury gives the follow
ing instance of a man's rascality and a woman's folly.
A man at one time our schoolmate, chum, and bed
fellow, by lona labor had succeeded in lA:Mating himself,
and was nearly prepared to enter upon the practice of
the law. He received en appointment of Deputy Post
master in a small town in Maine, and the next notice we
had of him came in a letter of his own handwriting, de ,
ted in jail, praying for efforts in his behalf, M save him
from the severe penalty which would follow his condem
nation for robbing letters of their contents. Letters had
been rifled, their contents stolen, the money identified
and traced to him, and ho was found guilty, in spite of all
efforts to save 'Rini, and sentenced to seven years' im—
prisonment in the penitentiary or county jail. Be chose
the latter. When first accused, ho. was engaged to a
beautiful and accomplished woman, who, with a true wo
man's heart, clung td him and his fortunes, the more for
tune seemed to flown upon him. With efforts worthy
of manhood and a better cause, she struggled and toiled
to avert the terrible verdict of "gnilti•," and its conse
quent punishment and infamy: but in .vain. Through
abuse, discouragement. and obloquy, she wavered not.
till the fearful word fell from the court; aqd then, in a
fit she fell upon the floor. Well had it been if she had
passed away forever in that state of unconsciousness!
But condemnation and the sentence" nnd the prison
bars could not blot out the warn 4 and light and energy
of her love. With ardor unabut6d she procured a peti
tion, sought out many of the most influential men of the
nation; obtained their signatures, wont to Washington,
saw the President, and her energy, perseverance, elo
quence, beauty and distress, procured the pardon of her
101'6 . , after several years of his incarceration and her
sorrow and heroism had been passed. She flew to his
cell, she opened his prison door, she set the captive free,
and he—deserted her, ruined in reputation and broken in
heart, and married another.
When list we heard from the scoundrel ho was living
in Boston, Mass., whom wo hope ho may have the pleas
ure of reading this true history of his villany. And if he
feels any uncertainty of his identity, let him go to the
town ok Orono, Me., or to the recorder-of the United
States, and inquire for the name of one Mr. Woods, who
figured conspicuously some ton or twelve years ago as a
thief, mail roldier, convict, seducer, and an ingrate.
Rum inKAIILE, ADVENTURW: WITH A thIAR.—It was one
day during the present week, that two boys, sons of Seth
Manes, of Bradford township. Pa., ono perhaps fiftden
and the other not over eight or ten years of age, discov
ered a very large bear carrying a sheep through one of
the fields. The eldest boy ran to the house, got a gun,
gave chase, and on coining up to it, shot, anduoUnded
it in the nose. Ile then commenced reloading his gun,
and whilst he was doing so, his little brother ran forward,
or by some means (the particulars we did not learn,) be
came engaged with the boar. The older brother then
ran to the relief of tho little fellow, and when ho reached
him received a stroke from the bear on' the arm,.which
knocked him down, and the three then rolled together,
gun and all. Presently the older brother got loose, pull
ed the gun from under the bear, and, while it was hold
ing the child in its arms, deliberately shot it dead. The
bear is represented to have been a very largo one, and to
this fact, perhaps, the lesser boy is indebted for his life,
and perhaps both of them, as his arms were too long to
crush so small an object, and the wound in his nose and
mouth prevented him from biting.—Clearfield Bannon
llon. Rich. Broadhead has published an address
in die Easton Argus, to the Electors of the 10th district,
declining a re-election to Congress, At the expiration
of his present term, Mr. B. will have served sit years in
the National Courcils,'in which he has at all times sus
tained a high reputation as an able debater and consistt
ont Democrat. Ho carries with him into his,retirement
the good wishes of all who share the pismire of his ac•
quaintanco.
°9ATURDA MORNI*,
Ogled p l a4trp, anti illiacellang.
tiezzi,
Awake, old spirit of the past—
Awake l a nmiput thy armor on—
Nail freedom's ensign to the mast,
Nor falter till the fight is won. _
Heed not disunion's croaking voice,
Expose each dark'and damning plan ;
Elect the lader of yonr choice—
'rho gallant CASS of Michigan.
Thick, the stars grow dim,
of freedom braves the lea,
of steel put trust in Him
ti l ted upon the midnight sea;
old a beacon bright,
each faint and sinking man ;
waving in the light,
to of Cass of Michigan.
The eh} , ie
The barli
Her hearut
Who
For they be
To chee
And o'er it;
The notO
The grey-beard soldier leaps for joy,
The seamen on the deep is glad,
The old frohtiersman, when a boy,
Remembers the adventurous lad
Who trod the wilderness alone
Whore Millions now adore the man,
And toll how proudly valor shone
In imwts' Cess of Michigan. _
Whattlice I
With can
m Buena Vista frowned
one grim and glittering files,
There was ;host in battle crowned; -
An army from the British isles;
The brave of earth, who proudly sought
Our nag p soil with direful ban;
But they'resson sad were taught -
By LEW!) I CASS of Michigan.
In princely Halls, by gilded thrones,
Ho stoooho champion of the free;
Ho heard tile fettered seaman's groan,
And °pod the prisons of the sea.
The starry flg no longer bowed
To banners borne in Europe's van,
And freemen on their hills wore proud
Of LEWIS CASS of Michigan.
Firm in the rinciples of right
By Demo ritic sliges taught,
Ho keeps his sword rind honor bright.
And wrongs us not in deed or thought;
As when th 9 glittering blade was broke,
Before a base, dishonored man,
He stands, e'en now, our forest oak—
The gallant Cess of Michigan.
THE SAG
ENO
DM
Land of 0 e forest and the rock
- Of dark Inc lake an d mighty river—
Of mountains rpred a toll to mock
-My own gee nd forever. IA ntratEa.
Never was 'co try more fruitful than our own
with rich materials of romantic and tragic interest,
to call into excercise the, finest talents of the drama
tist, and novelist. 1 Every cliff and headland has its
aboriginal legend; the village, now thrifty and quiet,
had its days of sle ighter and conaflg,rat ion, its tale
of devoted love o ! cruel teachery; w hile
, the city,
now tumultuous vtitli the pressure of commence, in
its "day of small t lingo," had its bombardment and
foreign army. and is handful of determined freemen,
it ho achieved prodigies of single handed valor.—
Now that men are, daily learning the worth of hu
manity, its hopes and its trials coming nearer home
to thought and affection; now that the complicated
passions of refine() and artificial life are becoming
lessimportant thah the broad, deep, g - enuine mani
festitions of the common mind, we may hope for a
bolder and more conrageonsliterature, we may hope
to-see the drama - lie itself frinn sensualism and fri
volity, and rise td the Shaksperian dignity of true
passion, while thekomarke will learn btter its true
pound, and will create, rather than portray—delin
eate, ruttier than dissect 'human sentiment and emo
tion.
The State, of M:ine is peculiarly.rich in its histo
rically romantic il associations. Settled ns it was
prior to the landing of the Pilgrims, first under
Raleigh Gilbert, and subsequently by Sir Ferdia
nand° Gorges, whom colony it. is fair, in the Omens°
of testimony, to m i ter never left the country after
1616, but contin l ed ha employ th emselves in the
fisheries, and in some commerce with the West In
dies, up to the time of their final incorporation with
the Plymouth setilement. Indeed the correspon
dence of Sir Riclird Vines, governor of the colony
under Sir Perdinandq Gorges, with the Governor of
Plymouth, leates }no doubt upon this head, and it is
a well known fact that the two settlements of De la
Tour at the mom! s of the Penobscot and Kennebec
rivers, even at dd.; early age, were far from being
1 1
contemptible, both in a commercial and numeric
point of view.- A ded to these wag -the handful of
Jesuits at Mont Desert, and we might say a colony
of Sweeties on the l Fen cost, between the two large
rivers just named, the memory of which is tradition
al, al, and the vestig es of which are sometimes turned
up by the plough sh are . These people probably fell
beneath some oils reek of savage vengeance, which
left- no name or record of their existence.
Subsequently to these was the dispersion of the
Acadians, that ter-ible and wanton piece apolitical
policy which resulted in the extinction and dena
tionalizing of a simple and pions,people. The foga
tive Acadians found their way through a wilderness
of forests, sufferidg and dying as they went, some
landing in distant states, (five hundred having been
consigned to Governor pglethorpe of Georgia,) and
others lonely and bereft, (mind a home with the
humble and laborious farmers of thii hardy state,
whose finest quality is an open-handed hospitality.
These intermarrying with our people here, have left
traces of their bloat] and fine moral qualities to en
hance the excelle4ce• of a pure and healthful popu
lation.
Then followed the times of the Revolution, when
Maine did her park nobly in thethe great and peril
ous work. Our o n Kriox i lwas commandant of the
artillery, and the bosom .friend Of Washington: our
youth sunk into unknown grave in the sacred cause
of freedom; and our people . , p or as they were, for
the resources of tie state were then undeveloped.
cast their mite of Wealth into tie national treasury.
Northerly and isolated us she
_is, her cities were
burned,fand her frontiers jealously watched by an
alert and cruel enemy. Here; too, Arnold sowed
his last seeds of virtue and patriotism, in his ordions
march through the wilderness of Maine to the capi
tal of the Conada6, an exploit ,Which, considering
the season, the pbverty of nunibers and resouces,
.
combine with the wild, nnknown, and uncleared
state of tie country may compete with the heroic
actions o any great leader of any people. ,
A marapme - state, Maine suffers severely from th e
fluctations of commerce, but is'. the first to, realize
reactions:of prpsperity. Her extended seaboard,
her vast forests, her, immense mineral resources, to
gether, with a popiffation hardy, laborious,
virtuous,
and enterprising.; a population less adulterated by
foreign admixture than any state in the Union, all
point to a coming day of power and 'prosperity which
shall place per formost in the ranks of the states, i
point wealth, ad'she is already in that of intelligence.
r
We have enumerated . but a tithe of tiniintellect
ual resources o Maine—have given but a blew
sheet as it were of the material which will hereafte
make her renowned in story, and confine oureelve_
WO OW A XI
;13 CAUO, Or DUO ICIAAN.
BY JESSE E. DOW
MORE OF SACO,
gcnb at Maine. •
ZAIII:TII OAKF.9 SNIITIT
'•
.Nlfg4B s ,4
1 •
EM
t a single poin'
onneeted-with
'of . historic and romantic Inter
the earlier records of the coon
tided to the first governor, Sir
ht worthy and chavilric gentle
gent of Sir PerdinandoVorges,
and other fine spirits of the day.
i t the Pool, as it it now called,
' from the fact that the winter
ed by Vines and his followers
a residence of eighteen or twen
the the interests of 'the eOIO4Y,
in, theitransfer of the Alaineplan
milt proprietors, together with
fiery •misfortune, induced Sir
ire to the Island of Barbadoes,
prosperous and respected, and
colony for which he had done
We have all'
rd Vinep, a ri
the friend and
alter Raleigh,
esidtnce was
inter Harbor,
08EZ/172
a place. After
l i ars, devoted to
ath of his patro l
to the Plytno l
lie and pecu
rd Vines to re
we find him'
dome!
Rich!
wher, ,
still I I
and 8
Pr
indful of the
tiered so mudi.
'or to his depnrt'ure and probably not altogether
1 nected with it, he had incurred the deadly ha
i r John Bonytol, a young man of the colony,
In after years was cejled, and is still remember
tradition as the "Sagamore of Saco." The
of this hatred was in some way connected
he disappearance of Bridget Vines, the daugh
theßonyton governor, for Whom John onyton had
lied a wiltrand passionate attachtnent. Years
I
L our story she had been suddenly - rnissing, to
rmanent grief nd die' may of the' family, and
re terrible - ag ny of John Bonyton, who had
ved the Idea that Bridget had been sent to a Etu
t convent, to save her from his presence. This
e would never abandon, notwithstanding the
solemn denials of Sir Richard, and the most
illy and sympathizing asseverations of, Mis
hies.. The youth listened with compressed
s large, remarkable eye fixed with stern and
' ing, scrutiny urn the face of the speaker, and
he was dune t e reply was always the same,
knows if this btt true; but, true or false, my
ball be against every man till she be found.
lordingly we find the youth, who seems to have
t
.assessed of th se rare and strong points of
ter which go o make the hero, in constant
inn with the people - of the times. Moody and
eful, he becrout an allien to his fathers house,
ith gun and doh passed, months in the wilder
gions of that , vild country. With the say
. slept in his w gwam, he threaded the forest
mood upon the verge of the cataract; or pene
up to the stormy regions of the White Moun
and anon, hushed the tumultuous beating of
n accordance With the stroke of his paddle;
nd his compati ons glided over their loveliest
!s, Winnepisog: or "the smile's of the Great
!Inca
tred
who
ed in
cause
w it h
ter °
Cote
befor
the p
the m
come
re seemed no rest for the unhappy mon. Hu
endure the tormalities and intermedlings,
so strongly mark the period, he spent most of
le on the fronties of the Settlement, admitting
e companions-lila, and yielding less of courte-
Vhen he, first a peered in the colony, the wo
•garded his fine erson, his smile, at once sor
and tender, en hi 4 free, noble bearing with
tion, not umni gled with terror; while men,
n that age of m nly physique looked upon his
tithe yet firm airon, atheletic and yet grace
d] eyes of env ous delight. Truth to soy,
~
lonyton had ne •er impar,ecl a-- fine develope
y any useful employment, or nny elaborate
lts nt book-knov i dedge. Ile knew all that was
al fur the tirnes, or the mode of life which, he
!lowed, and furher he cared ot. His great
enr,s.lottprl to. n nnecinneken v.* transip s:11, hp
all who came % ithin his sphe e found them
bent to his pur °se.
Pilgrim's even unflinching an ncompro
' as they were, felt the spell of his presence,
re content to tpurn; to persecute, and set a
ultic
His ti
of lit
By.
rnwfn
admir
even i
frame
ful, ti
John
went
attr m
°sent i
had a
nf,WP
which
I. T . h
frll6lll
port the head o a man whom theY'could not
I. Yet for all t lie John Bonyton died quietly
bed, no one dar ng loth) to him even what the
told justify. ' e slept in perfect security t for
w this, and ku w, too, that tfie woods were
.ith ardent and evoted adherents, who 1.1.041
ehiged the soil with blood had bt•t a hair of
• dbeen injured. The Saga more of Saco was
nary man;' on the men of these times, re
le as they wer felt this; and hence is it that
) this day his m mory is held in remembrance
I n almost supersu l ituous awe, and people point.
-
arrow where lie s the ashes of the "Sagamore,"
l ow the boundatlies of his land, and tell mar
-1 tales of his hardihood and self-possession.
I tell. of a lime when a price been set upon
1
i• , •
I how, when he people were assembled in
le church for worship, John Bonyton walked
u a g un in hand and stood through the whole
~ erect and ster as a man of iron, and !Mope
carcely look upon him, much less lift a tin
ainst him; and I ow he waited till all-had gone
ven the oracle of God, pale and trembling,
en departed in Silence as he came. Surely
I van greatness in this—the greatness of a Na
, needing but a field for its excercise.
. .
ci APTER It.
• Methinight, within a desert cave,
Cold, dark, and eatemn as the grave,
1 bud tenly awoke. ,
It seemed ofsable night the cell,
Where, save alien from the ceiling fell
An oozing drop, heisilent spell
No sound) had ever broke.—A LISTON.
, tug the great rirrs of ;Wine the Penobscot
l•nnebeck stand re-eminent, on the account
•rmaritine imperance, their depth and adap
-1,, to the purposes of internal navigation; but
, ire others less e3sential to the wealth of the
I l y, which, encumbered with fulls and rapids,
alike ship and st:eauner, but are invaluable for
-at purposes of nianufact u re. The Androcog
one of these, a 'liver,' winding, capricious and
eantiful; just the one to touch the fancy of the
Ind tempt the cupidity of a millwright. It
s with scenery of the most lovely and roman
unst, and falls already in bondage to loom and
Lewistown Pulls, or Pe-jip-scot, as the
4 inals, called this beautiful place, are perhaps,
I the finest wato • plunges in the country. It
'merely the beauty of the river itself, a broad
ngthened sheet r f liquid in the heart of a fine'
,y, but the whole region is wild and romantic.
olden bends of tie river present headlands of
dulness, beneath Evhich the river spreads itself,
placid bay, tilleady to gather up-its skirts
( 1
and thread itsel daintily amid the hills. The
1 present slopes at d savannas warm and shel
in which neale way fi nely cultivated-farms,
m whence ark . those rural sounds , of flock
rd so grateful t the spirit, and that primitive
f horn,w hiding itself into a thousand echoes,
MEM
he kn.
nlive
have
his he
no orb
With
out a
%Timis
Th
h hel
the lit
in Wit
bervle
diareJ
ger n.
forth,
And tti
third
poleo
oni K
of the
tohilit
there
spurn
the g
Owls
moit
poet,
aboun
tic int
eliiittl
DIM
IMM
into a
terel,
and I
and Ii
blurt
the si
eroui
nal of the in-gak
r ed with fir, over
ds of. feet, cast
the stream; and
'dial] may le seell
elie , of the wood
l ig sites of his pc)
verge of this v
p its council sm
and the uncontef
in the time of oU
amed majesty;
ug and plunging
and the great
. ering of a household. Cliffs
mug the Waters; hills, rising
heir dense shadows quite e
ven now the "slim canoe"of
poised below; while some
s looks upwards to the ancient
)ople, and recalls the day when
ery fall, o populous village
Ate day and night, telling of
pted power of his tribe.' •
ir story, the region stood' in
ho whirling mass of waters
• in the midst of an unbroken
oar 4f- the cataract booming
hunir'
cross
the It
stern 1
h the solitude 11
deep. Men In
hose mysterious
ke the unceasing voice of the
w stand_ with awe and gaze
falls, vital with tradition, tor-
upon
ribly
be tr
hind
and t
eautiful, and pg
e? Can it he di,
lhat sheet of fon
ell known, and I
• story must,est
ye--‘a tact well
country, more t
himself sufficie
feet of water an
es mid-day; an
falls, cast a not
[eind gloom of ,
by a Ire !Wine
'torches stuck itt
Oti I
this el
of ill:
found
the s
of th
the ei
lieve
more
ain and - again ask, "Cad they
t beneath those waters, be,
is a room, spacieusand vast,
egnented by •the Indian."-
biish the ,fact in • regard, to
known in the earlier. records
an one white Man - having
fitly athletic to plunge behind
gain the room.'
the sun, penetrating the sheet
uncheerful light into the cave
bleb were 'Still' further re-
I g in the centre, and one Or
the fissured of the rocke'.--!
1 -
thisßefore fire stood a Women of Coriy or fifty years
of age, gazing intently,tiPon
_the white liquid, and
tumultuous, covering to the door' of her home,, and
yet the expression of het eye showed that her thought
were far beyond the place in, which 'she stood.
She was taller than the wont of Indian women,
more slender than is customary with them at her
perind_of life; and altogether, presented a keenness
and springiness of fibre that retnainded one of Arab
more than aboriginal blond. Her brow was high,
retreating, and narrow, with arched and contracted
brows, eath which fairly. burned a pair of intense
restleSs- yes.
At one side, stretched upon skins,:appeared what
might have been mistaken for a white veil, except
that a draft of air caused a portion of it to rise and
fall; showing it to boa mass of hump hair. 'Yet
so motionless was the figure, so still a tiny mocca
soned foot, just perceptible, and the•hue and abun
dance of the covering, that all suggested an image
of death.
At length the tall woman ,turned sharply round
and addressed the object upon the mat .
"Ilow much longer will you sleep, Skoke? Get
up, I tell thee."
, At this "ungracious speech-4er koke, means
snake—the figure started slightly but id not obey.
After some silence she spoke again, " a•in (white
soul) get up and oat, our people will soon be here.
Still no motion nor reply. At lengti the woman,
in a sharper accent, tesutned..
"Bridget Vince, 1 bid thee arise!" and she laugh
ed in an under tone.
The figure slowly raised itself up and looked upon
the speaker. • '"Aseashe, j will answer only to my
own name."
"As you like," retorted the other. "Skoke is as
good a name as Aseashe." A truism which the
other did not seem' disposed to question—the one
meaning a snake, the other a spider; or "net-wea-
MS
Contrary to what might have been expected from
the color of the hair, the figure from the mat seemed
La mere child in aspect, and yet the eye, the mouth,
' and the grasp_o( her hand, indicated not only ma
turity of Y(inrs, but the presence of deep and intense
passions; Her size was thatof a girl of thirteen
years in our northern climate, vet the fine bust, the
distinct and slender waist, and the firm pressure of
the arched foot, revealed maturity as well as individ
ualism of character. - I •
Rising from her recumbent posture, she approach
ed the water at the entrace of the cave till the spray
mingled with her long, white lock•', and the light
falling upon her brow, revealed a - sharp,' beautiful
outline of face scarcely (ducked by yearS, white even
teeth, and eyes, of blue, yet, so deeply and sadly_
kindling into intensity, that they grew iriomentarily
darker, and darker, as'you gazed upon them.
"Water, still water, fdrever water,•" iiihe,tritirtmir
ed. Suddenly turning round, she darted away into
the recesses of the cave, leaping and flying, as it
were, with her long hair fosse(' to and fro about her
person. Presbntly she emerged, followed by a pet
panther, which leaped and bounded in concert with
his mistress. Seizing a bow, she sent the arrow
away into the black roof of the cavern, waited for
its return, and then discharged it again and again,
watching its progress with eager and inpatient de
light.- This done, she cast herself again upon the
skins, spread her long hair over her form, and lay
motionless as marble.
Ascashe again called,
."Why do yon not come
um* - cutg ellswittal"
Having no answer, she called out, "\Va-an, come
and eat;" and then tired at' this useless teasing, she
arose, and shaking the white girl by the arm, cried,
"Bridget Vines, 1 bid you eat."
"I will. Ascashe," snswered the other, taking
corn and dried fish, which the other:presented.
"The spider caught a bad snake when she wove a
net for Bridget Vines," muttered the tall woman.:—
The other covered her face with her hands, and the
veins of her forehead swelled above her fingers; yet
when she uncovered her eyes they . were red, not
with tears, but the effort to suppress their flow.
"It i s a long, long lime, that 1 have been here, As
cashe," answered Bridget, sorrowfully.
"Have you never been out since Samoret left you
here?" asked the net-weaver: and she fixed hereyes
searchingly upon the face of the girl, who never
quailed nor changed color beneath her gaze, but re
plied in the same tone, "How should little Hope
escape—where should she go!" Hope being the
name by Which Mistress Vines had called her child
in moments of tenderness, ns suggestng a mother's
yearning hope that she would nt some time be less
capricious!, for Bridget had always been a wnyward,
incoherent, and alum ive creature, and treated with
great gentleness by the family. _
"Do yo 4 remember what I once told your' con
tinued thel other. "You had a friend—you have an
enelnY."!
This titre Bridget Vines 'started, and gave utter
ance to al lon g , low, plantive cry, as if her soul
wailed, as if itllited from its frail tenement, for she
fell hack is dead upon the skins. ___,
The wdman muttered, "The white boy and girl
shouldn't have scorned the red woman, and she
Melt her t the verge of the water and Waited tier re
covery; w ten she opened her eyes, she continued,
"Ascashel is content=--she has been very, very
wretched, but so has been tim. enemy. Look, my
hair is bl#1; Wienin's id like the white frost."
"1 kinetN it would he so," answered thu other,
gently, "b it it is nothing. Tell tne where you have
been, Aseeshe, and how came you here? 0-ya-ah
died the other day." She alluded_ to an old squaw,
who had quit her keeper in the cave:
At this liniment a shadow darkened the room, an
other, andianother, and three stalwart savages stood
before the two women. - Hach, as he passed, patted
the head a Bridget, who shook them of with moody
impittienc .
They . g thered about the coals in the centre. talk
!
ing in under tones, while the woman prepared sonic
venison which was to furnish forth the repast.
CHAPTER ill.
Ltd Ate who elltaLeil the storm swept steep,
• i Site who the foaming wave would date, - 1
zi!lo oft love's vigil hereto keep,
Stranger, albeit thou thitik'st I dote:
know, I know she watches thine —llorru•x.
That ni ht the men sat lung around the fi re, and
talked of a deadly feud and a deadly prospect of re
venge. Ascashe listened and counseled. and her
suggestimis were often hailed with imitations of ap
proval—fik the woman possessed of keen and pen
etrating Mind, heightened be passio tis at once poW,
erful and Malevolent. Had the group observed the.
white occupant of the skins, they would have seen
a pair of dark, bright eyes peering through -those
snowy to and red lips parted, in the eagerness
of the inte,tt ear. . (
"How If r distant are they pawl"; asked the wo
man. i .
"A thre hours walk down atreaM," was the an.;
ewer. " o-morrow they will ascend the falls to
surprise t people, and burn the vill ge. To-night,
when the noon is Mimi, we are tlight a fire at
still-water above the falls, and the errentines will
join us at he signal, leave their ca oes in the care
of the wo an, and decend upon our oes. The tire
will warn uc people how near to approach the falls,
i;
for the ni ht will bo dark:' This was told at in
tervals, and to the quesitionings of the woman.
"Wher i l c !s the Sagamore of Saco," ask Ascashe.
. "John nyton heads our foes, but to-night is the
last one.tSagamore." : .nt
At this a
e the. white bait stirie
l i
then a lot wail escaped from benetit
`43 One of the teen, with As
the girl,svtto seemed to
assess: but the panther r,
1.
'.ut • its claws , and thew
started, a
the face
unconscio
stretched
is long, red tongue, and'
• a howl, that the 'wpma
at have been•the same.
showing
so 'nearly
sounds in
y the group disposed the
:on should set. when they
Proem
till the m
trail. 'Previous to (hi
be upoel
=I
d violently, and
h.. The group
:castle, scanned
steep in perfect
, Ileditself over,
back- his head,
%tiered' a yawn
•declared the
• selves to sleep
List once more
many were the
.
charges enjoined upon the woman i n regard to
Bridget.
"Guard her well," said the leader of - the band.—•
In n few suns more she will be a greet medicine
woman, foretelling things that shall come to the
tribes]"
We must now visit thd encampment of John Ben
yten, where he and his followers slept, waiting till
the first dawn of day shoidd send them on their dead
ly path. The moon hadset; the night was intense
ly dark, for clouds flitted over the sky, now and then
disburdering themselveti with gusts of wind, which
swayed the old woods to and fro, while big drops of
rain fell antid the leaves and were hushed.
Suddenly a white figure stood over the sleeping
chief, so slight, so unearthly in its shroud of wet,
white hair, that one might well be pardoned a super,
stitious tremor. She wrung her hands and wept
bitterly as she gazed—then she !meltdown and look
ed more closely ; then, with a ()Weir . sty, she flung
herself into his bosom.
"Oh, John Ilonyton, did I not tell you this t Did
not. tell you,years ago, that little Hope stood in
my path, wi th hair white as snow r'
the man raked himself up, he gathered the slight
figure in his arms—he -uncovered a torch and held
it to her face.
"Oh, my God ! my God !" he cried—and his
strength departed,.. and he was helpless as a'child.
The years of agony, the lapse of thirty years were
concentrated in that fearful moment. - Bridget, too,
lay motionless and silent, clin g ing to his neck.-..
Long, long was the hour of su ffering to the two.—.
What was life to them ! stricken and changed, liv
ing and breathing, they only felt that they lived and
breathed by the pangs that betrayed the beating
pulse. Oh, life ! life ! thou art a fearful boon, and
thy love not the least fearful of thy gifts.
At length Bridget raised herself up,,and would
have left hisarm? but John Bonyton held her fast.
" Ntiy, Hope, ntver again. lily tender, my beau
tiful bird, it has fared ill with thee,' and smoothing
her white locks, the tears gushed to the eyes of the
strong man. Indeed, he, in his full strength and
manhood, she, diminutive and bleached by solitude
and grief, contrasted so powerfully in his mind, that
a paternal tenderness grew upon him, and he kissed
her brow reverently, saying,
"How have I searched for thee,' my birdie, my
chill ; I have been haunted by the furies, and goad
ed well-nigh to murder—but thou art here—yet not
thou. Oh, Hope ! Hope !"
The girl listened, inte and breitthieSs.
6 , 1 knew it would bo ec John Bonyton ; I knew
if parted, we could never be the same
the
same cloud returns not to the sky ; the same blos
som blooms not 'twide ; human faces never wear
twice the same II : and,',! fllai alas ! the heart of
to-dayi•t not that) f td-morrow r'
, bliyr on, lloperyears are annihilated, and we
are children again, hoping, loving children."
But the girl only•buried her face in ,his bosom,
weeping and sobbing. At this moment a red glare
of light shot up into the sky, and Bridget sprung tip
her feet. • .
"Iliad forgotten. Come, John Bonyton, came
and see the only work that poor little Hope could
do to save thee ,''
and she darted forward with the
eager step which John Bonyton 'so well remember
ed. As they approached the falls, the light of the
be - rning tree,
kindled by - the hands of Bridget below
the falls, fl ickered and glared upon the waters ;'the
winds had - died away, the stars beamed, forth, and
nothing tninglod with the roar of waters, save an
occasional screech of some nocturnal creature
prowling ter its Prey.
Ever and ever poured on the untiring flood, till
one wondered it did not pour itself out ; and the
heart grew oppiessed atithe vast image4i crowding
into it, swelling and pressing ae did the tumultuous
waves over their impediment of granite—water,
still water, till the nerves ached from v'eariness at
.the perpetual flow, and the mind iquestioned if the
sound itself were not silence, so lonely Was the
spell—questioned if it were stopped, if the heart
would not cease to beat, and - life become annihi
late. -0,
Suddenly the girl stopped with hand pointing to
the f;1114. A black mass gleamed amid the foam- - -
one wild, fearful yell arose, even above the roar of
waters, and then the waves flowed on before. •
" Tell me, what is this r' cried John Bonyttini tied=
zing the hand of Bridget, and - keying herillight with
a strong grasp.
"Acashe did not know I could plU'nge under
the fall s=she did not know the strength of little
Elope, when she heard the name of JohMilonyton."'
She then went on to tell how she had escaped the
cave—how site had kindled a signal fire below the
falls, in advance of that to be kindled above—and
how she had dared, alone, the terrors oil the forest,
and -thc black night, that she might once more look
upon the face of her lover. - When she had finish
ed, she threw her arms tenderly aroundl'his decd
she pressed her lips to•his, and then, with h gentle.a,
ness unwonted to her nature, would have disengaged -
herself from his arms. -
Why do you leave me, Hope—where will you
(To?" nsaiii the &guipure.
::Sim i looked lip with a face so pale, so hopeless, so
mournfully tender, as was most Directing to behold.
"I will go under the falls, and there 'Fleep—oh !
so - long will I sleep, John Bonyton
Ho folded her like a little child to his bosom.—
"You must not leave me, Hope—do you nut love
me r
She answered only by a low wail, that was more
affecting than any words; and when the Stigamore
pressed her again to his heart, she answered, calling
him John Bonyton, as she used to callifitn lathe
days of ' her childhood.
6 , Little Hope is a terror to herself, John Ilonytnn.
Her heart is all love—all lost in yours ; but she is a
child, a child just as she was years ago ; but you,
you are not the same—More- beautiful—greater;
poor little_ Hope grows fearful before ' you ;" and
again her voice was lost in tears•
The sun now began - to tinge the sky with his rud
dy htie.; the birds filled the woods with en outgush
of melody ; the rainbow, as ever, spann e d the abyss
of waters, while below, drifting in eddies, were
fragments of canoes, and still more ghastly frog
nients, telling of the night's destruction. The
stratagem of the girl had been entirely, successful
—deluded by the,false beacon, the unhappy say - ages
had drifted on' with the tide, unconscious of danger,
till the one terrible pang of danger, andthe terrible
plunge of death came at one . and the
Upon a headland overlooking the
,group of the cavern, stirred with fee
words give no utterance, and which
in\ some deadly act. Acashe desce
along the bank, watching intently th
the o p posite shore, in the midst of
the whkte, abundant locks of' Bridget
at a great distance, She now stood b
nmore, saying.
,' Forget,poor little Hope, John Bo'
remember that her life was one long,
of Thee." \
66 sh e started—gave one wild 100
grief at the Sag - more—and then dao
bank, marking hepath With stream!
disappeared under the falls. The aim
had done its work. \
"Acashe is reveng6d, John Bonytl rt " cried a loud
voice—and a dozen arrws stopped i in its utter
ance. Fierce was the Porsuit, and esperate the
flight of the few surviving foes. Th ii Sagamore
of Saco" never rested day or night tII he and his
n \
oilowers had cut off the last •eattge o the Tera
tines, and avenged the bloodof 11; unhappy maiden.
Then for years did he linger a ut the fells, in the
vain hope of seeing once more bet. ild, spectral
beauty—but sho appeared no morAkn h e flesh ; tho'
tothis, men not romantic or vise:nutty, declare they
have seen lature, slight andbeautifliclad in robe
t % ci,,,\
of skin, with moccasoned feet, and lon WlTite,hair,
nearly reaching to the ground, hovering orrowfully
around the falls; and this strange figur .-they be.
Nye to be the wraith'of the lust Bridget MO. •
NUMBER 10.
r ame moment.
ails, stood the
,ings to which
.d expression,
ed stealthily
group upon,
• hicb floatea
ines, visible
liide the Sat
yton, or only
long thought
of love and
ed down tho
of blood. and
f the savage