ONE ODLUR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA : Thursday Morning, Jnly 31, 1862. jidcrtcb Hoetrg. THE SOLDIER'S LETTER. BY E. D. MOKSE. " From your ED" That was all of it I read , Had there been no other word, AH her being 'twould have stirred. Think not that, with curious eye, Such foud missive I would spy ; Only these three words I read— " From your ED." " From your ED" Tenderly the words I read. From the field ot bloody strife, "Where full many a brave, young life For our only cause is given— Ah they \< ait in yonder heaven ; Falter, we'll not count as dead, Such as ED. " From your ED" Lighter grows the maiden's tread ; Ah •' thank Gob, he's living yet! Dears of joy their eyelids wet, And her woman's heart beats fast ; 'Gainst the letter came at last, ller sweet lips press that, instead Of her ED. " From your ED" • Ah ! her cheek is growing red ; He who penned that missive brief, Could he guess her glad relief? She has seen in dreams, at night. Upturned faces, ghastly white, Yet her brave though girlish heart Ever hides its cruel smart; Hints not love is mixed with dread For her ED. " From your En" Who the far-off shores must tread Of that sunny sin-curs d land. Where our noble, patriot band t-eek the tyrant to overthrow, While the hearts that love them to As that young heart has bled, For her En. " From your ED" We are strangers—yet I said. Angels, guard liiin safe front harm, Keep his heart all true and warm. Bring him safely back once more! Then, all doubts and heart ache o'er, May that gentle maiden wed With her ED. iili st c 11 anto ns. The Deserter. " Come here a moment please." We ha.i cnly a glimmer of light in the hos pital, for the cots were nearly all empty. Mo-t of our wounded had been sent home ; but the tno3ii wus lull, and poured its white stream of radiance right down on the luce of the man who had spoken to me. " What is it you want ?" I asked. " I don't like to be alone. I feel rather strangely." " You are excited : what is the matter ?" The thin, keen features of the man wore an eager, restless expression ; his black eyes shone fiercely. " I'm a deserter, you know. This wound troubles rne a little. You don't think I de serted from cupidity, do you ?" " Really, I know nothing about it. You are not well 10-uight ; I shall give yon some thing quieting so that you may sleep." No, no, just stay lo re a moment. Don't leave me." lie looked so eager that I sat down on his cot, tell his pu'se again, re-arranged his ban dages, and plact d Ins pillow more comfortably " our touch is gentle as a woman's,'" he said, gratefully, sighing as he spoke. I sat. Hill a little while, then rose to order Lis tnedi due, hut he grasped me by the hand and drew cie down again hv him Tins moonlight rem nds me of the night I cane near loosing my sword arm I was Lieu tenant in a Lomsana regiment We had a pretty hard brush with your fellows, and I found mysdf face to face with Lite toughest subject you ever saw. Twice I thought myself gone ; our cartridges Were out ; with a great shout ul "Liberty and Union !" the Yankee came at me with a sabre, cutting a gash in my arm that laid me low. Fortunately they had to fly just then, or I should have been i i the other world When I came to my senses, I Was all alone with just such a glare of moon light in tny eyes as shines to nigtit. I was very weak and consuming with thirst, and uot espe cially thuukiul to uiy hrave comrades for leav ing me thus. \ou must know that I joined the army without a spark of love for secession not a jot of principle in the matter —purely for the love of adventure, and with my French blood tingling at the thought of " la glorio." I have had diflerent teachings since ; so you need not be hasty in thinking me very con temptible. Glory has been the dream of my life.'' I'ale, wasted as he was, the young Lienten a"t's lacu lud a strange fascination on it. Now his eyes gleamed again, his proud month was tremulous with feeling that, of course, was yet to me. I tried to make him be silent ; but so intense was his desire to speak that I found it best to listen calmly— est lor more reasons than one ; life was low ' !1 l ' le chalice, perhaps might sweeteu its last ,ew drops. glory has been a bright dream ever since I could listen to old stories of my ances or in other UuUs, where our name was a f IOu, l °'- ,e . fl name I have tried to keep with '°uor. \\ e || ( | woke in the moonlight with a '® se " Se °* concern for mv genarous friends o had left me to my fate, and a very urgent ocsire to get water ; so I managed to crawl 'ro the woods, sometimes rising to my feet "y to f a || again, though 1 had tied my band trchief round my arm to stop the bleeding, recollect passing a farm house before tbe fray THE BRADFORD REPORTER. and as well as I could, made my way for it.— I was fortunate j though alarmed, the occu pants were accustomed to dauger, and kindly took me in. For some time I was very ill— during my illness our regiment was ordered off —indeed the Federals had gained possession of that part of the country. No one molested me. for the family was u poor-Union one, who had been robbed of nearly all ttieir valuables, but who, notwithstanding our ill treatment, did uot make known my refuge. I need not teli you how kind they were, how patient and caretul ; there was only an elderly woman, a boy of fourteen, a joung woman in the family. From the time I first opened my eyes after the deferium of fever, until—no matter for time— but kindness ami teuderest care from both, but principally the young woman, greeted me. I cau see her great, dark, sad eyes, looking now at me. Dieu 1 how beautiful, how tender, how full of love. Love, did L say ? adoration ! What a life wus hers ! Poor Nina, poor Ni na ! She was the daughter of one of the proudest and most influential merchants in New Orleans—her mother a quadroon slave. The father died one day with apoplexv with out adjusting his " property," leaving Nina a slave. Too proud, too good, too beautiful Jshe fled, for her mo'her had already named the price—three thousand dollars. I gnashed my teeth at the accursed institution—she taught me that 1 was fighting to perpetuate. Site, poor Nina, not even then safe from pur suers. [ cannot, express to you how gentle and tender was her care of me. I can onlv tell you it inspired the deepest love." The in valid raised himself on one arm, flashing dark t-r, deeper than ever were his black eyes—a noble brow, white and thin to spirituality— the proud lips quivering with pain and pas sion. .Again I tried uuavailfngly to sooth him —he must have felt the strong tide of life ebb ing, but it seemed only to nerve him o:i to speaking. 1 had left in New Orleans rare beauties, my own cousin, proud, elegant woman ; I have frittered time away over soulless creatures ; I have believed myself in love with moths, glit tcring, gaudy, vain beings ; but never had 1 loved truly till I saw Nina. You do not know what it cost me to confess this even to myself. I, who hid proudest ol blood in my veins I to love a woman tainted with Afriean lineage! I feel wild—the room swims hush, you must listen ! Nina's voice was rich with inelcdy, lut it became torture. Her gentle, healing distracted me, her light fotfall, her winning womanliness and modesty all jarred. I wa nearly m d, and because I loved her—loved her w hose price was three thousand dollars. " I can see the room where I lay day after day battling dire thoughts—wan and weak, weaker than now, for to night 1 em strong. — My wound would not hea', for my brain was oil fire. So lying there on nice white pillow, fanned or read to hy that leautiful, sad, pas siunate woman, who, even in her ciee sense of beauty and order, in her loving desire to please, in her longing to amu-u; or change the current of my unhappy thoughts, betrayed the same emotion that was galling in- 1 . She wreathed flowers dextrously ; she cooked th; most deli cate birds for my fastidious appetite ; sh? sang stfily low toned ballads, rich and sweet in old French words. And I, cold, mute, pas sive, listened with ears intent to hear, eyes aching to drink in her loveliness ; for she was lovely—yes, though only worth three thousand dollars. " I will stop soon ; you are kind to lie pa tient. 1 was dreaming one night of pi>t scenes —of my beautiful, fashionable cousin : hut ilieir faces became suddenly dark and vicious as imps ; their voices tuuuting, mocking me with toy love of glory, my hopes of fame ; for it seemed as if Nina had told them of my love for her, and in their impishness it became a mutter of rare sport to ji-er and mock me with my sudden fall from greatness,from ances tral pride 1 suppose I spoke aloud in my dreams for as 1 woke a pale face, floating in tears,van ished Ike a vision before me. So 1 kntw that Nina had heard all. The next day 1 was le.t all alone Oh, how long it, was ! how wear ily impatient 1 became lor my kind nurse, my tender friend ! The day wore away, and even ing came. In the long, tranquil twilight 1 watched the stars as a sir k man will, longing tor Nina. She came at last, slowly, feebly, as if very tired and weary, and depressed. For the lies', time I drew her close to me, her un resisting head down on my bosom, and told tier that I loved her belter than life, better than fame, better than any human being iu the wide, wide world. She was very still; only her soft breath on my cheek, only the beating ol ner heart close to mine told me that she heard Again I spoke, more iutensely, more impatiently, told her all my slnggles ; my whole heart poured itself out, and still she kuelt at my side iu silence. " Speak, Nina !" I said, "only say one word." " I would die for yon—l would die ; but 1 can not live and be yours," was her only reply. " But, Nina, you must. Have I not given up all ? Am I not willing to resign a claim which the world acknowledges—good birth ?" 1 was going on when she passionately ex claimed, " I cannot bear it—stop ! I cannot be be neath even you ! I have no tame woman's heart ; I have the fire of the South burning, leaping mmy veins.!" She rose quickly,stand ing beside me in her beautiful indignation,pride and love struggling together as they had done with me. Iler words came wildly fast >jnd in coherent She spoke of her white father bit lerly, witheringly ; of her slave mother with unmixed contempt ; of the world in disdain, almost cursing her Creator. She was in a passion of wild grief ; of i.tter, unsubdued an guish. I tried to allay ber sorrow, assuring her ot my love. Gradually she calmed down; tears came to her relief. She carressed me as if I had been a little child she had unriltingly injured—all barshuess, all reproach ceased to issue from her lips, it was lik the hushing of a storm, the gentle rain after flashing elec tricity und guots of furious wind. " J recalled my childish IPSSODS, for- PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH. ] gotten—of humility, of a Heavenly Father's love and mercy spite of seeming disfavor. •' Poor Nina, how quietly she listeued ! " It was late when she bid me good night but I th ught her happier wbeu we parted. " I do not know how long I slept when I [ was awakened by strange outcries, scufflinif i no8;s, remonstrance, rough replies, and, as I staggered weakly to the door, a sharp report. Two men rnshedjquiekly past out of the house, leaving all silent within,excepting a low sound which I knew to be Nina's voice I called, a> d presently the elder woman came, very much excited and alarmed, saying that the men were slave-catchers in search of Nian, who, hy their going so hastily away, she fear ed was injured. The boy came also quaking into my room, where they at last brought my poor Nina She wus indeed wounde J mortal ly— whether hy her own hand I could scarce ly determine,though I think it must have been io self-defence. " She opened her beiutifal eyes only once upon me, thence closed them with the same tired, wearv expression I had uot-ced in the evening. We watched her through the night, but human aid could not avail. Site was gone before morning—to where she could not be sold for three thousand dollars ! " Dieu ! do you wonder 1 deserted ? Do you wonderl want to live to meet those wretch es ? Glory has been my dream—now veu geance has its place !" " Vengeance is mine, 1 will repay, saith the | Lord," was my answer as the desertci's grasp tightened. His pale face giotved suddenly,his proud Dps quivered, a convulsive smile played over hi is fine features—the broad band of moon- I light still shimmered over the cot. The sol dier had joined the ranks above. [From tlie Tray Times.] Os-co-lu-aw. v MR I JI'MDAPD Dear Sir : Some weeks since, in an interview which I had with cer tain gentleman at Towaudu, it was agreeed that efforts should be made to learn the Indi an name of Sugar Creek.witha view of chang- | ing, if possible the name of some village or township ttirougii which it runs, to the origi- j mil of the stream. In pursuance of this un derstanding 1 consulted the lion. Thou as Maxwell, who is more thoroughly acquainted with the history of the celebrated Six Nations that is any man now living. In reply to my inquiry, lie kindly furnished me tiie inforncatio contained in the accompanying letter. Please publish as a matter ot peculiar local interest. Yours, F. SMITH. F. SMITH, Esq —Dear Sir : —ln compliance wiili your request I have examined mv collec tions ot' ancient documents, tor the Indian name of Sugar Creek, and send you tlie result of my research. 1 have a journal written by Conrad Weiser, an Indian interpreter, in 173t>, ot a journey through this country. " In tnat year (1 731>) Gov. Gouch, ot Virginia, requested of the Government in Philadelphia, that it should make known to the so called Six Nations by a regular embassy, that he was desirous ot es tablishing a peace between the allied Six Na tions, living to the North, and the so called Ciierikees and Cataubas, to the South. " I was required to perform this duty, and received regular instructions from James Lo gan, IC-q ,at that time President. 1737, on the 27ih February, 1 left home at Tulpobokcn for Onontago, which is the place where the allied Six Nations hold their councils." These are the words in which he commences his re port, or journal, lie seems to have been ac eompaeied by Stoffel Stump, a white man and an Onondaga Indian named Orris gera, who had been si .k some time at Tulpohoken. The lands at Tulpohoken, comprises part o! Berks and Lebanon counties, and were settled m 1723 by Germans from Scoharie in New York., who penetrated the forests to the head waters of the Susquehanna where they built c i noes and floated down the river to the mouth of the Swatara, on the head waters ol which and tiie Tulpohoken, they settled, on lands be longing to the Indians. The lands were pur chased by Shomas Peun from the Indians in 1732. Conrad Weiser had beed acquainted Willi the Mohawk and Onondaga Indians and spoke their languages previous to his removal to Pennsylvania while resident at Schoarie. — Hence he was imployed by the Pennsylvania Government in their Indian affairs. lie was a German, ana writes the Indian names of places as he pronounced them. This was obtained by ttie ear, as they had no writ ten language. This peculiarity is seen throgh out 'his journal. The name " Sioga" he writes Diahoga—Towanda is written Diawan daa ; Seneca, Se mikers and Cayuga is writ ten Gauiker ; Onondaga, Onontager, where the letter " L" occurs in a word he pronounces and writes it as if it were a " d." Our old acquaintance Mich iel Pfautz, always pro uouueed and wrote the name of Samuel Tut hill, " Dudliill." I have in my possession an assignment made by hiss to Captain Tuthill.of certaiu debts on a ledger kept by him written as follows : " I sine dis widin L igar to Sara Dudhill for de banifid of my cradidors iu de Stade of Nieuw Yorick." On reaching Shamokin, near Sunbury, Weiser was jo : tied by Shikellimo, a Cayuga, residing there, who was the father of the cel ebrated chief Log in, who was named by Pres ident Logan. They passed up the west branch of the Susquehanna to Wiiliarasport, thenee up the Lycoming to'Towanda and Sugar Creek iiieuee to Towanda and up to Tioga,thence to o*e.joand 13ingbi.m'on, 011 the Clieuango River (called l>y the Indians Utseningo, and written by Weiser Otseninskey,) on their way to Onondaga. On the 27th April, 1737. he encountered " the Dawaudaa Creek, meaniug ' The fretful, or tedious.' Towanda Creek is meant, and on the 28th he say, " we left the Dawautaa to the right band arid reached a water called Cocohu (the fierce.) Subsequent ly he writes it, " O-colui " I suppose the true iudiu.ii pronunciation to be Os-cu la wa. — On his return from Onondaga he passed down the North Branch to Shetnoken. He stopped "REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." a night at the present site of Towanda, and al ludes to Sugir Creek, as the one at the head of which he found the ludiaus " living on the juice of the maple tree. They had no provis io sto furnish his party, hut he gave them abundance of maple sugar. From the best io : formation I can gather, Os CO-LU-WA is the In j diau name of your neighborhood. I Your friend, | THOMAS MAXWELL. SPEECH OF ;COL. JOIIN w. FORNEY, Delivered in the Union Convention, Assembled at Harrisburg on the IT Ik of Jnly, in sup port of the Resolutions adopted on that oc casion. The resolutions, Mr. President, which have just been read, comprise, in brief terms, the duty of the loyal men of Pennsylvania, and they will go to the country as an utterance that must produce heulthful consequences.— There are elements in this assemblage which have uever been combined on any former pe riod of our country's issue. We have here representatives of the Republican party, the People's party, the American party, and of the loyal men of the Democratic party. I notice that at least twenty counties of the State have sent Democratic delegates to this Convention. The heavy gloom which seems again to have settled upon onr unhappy coun try, has had the effect of extinguishing many dissensions. Men who have differed radically in former years now stand together like a band of brothers, Rat one motive animates this splendid organization—that of devotion to country and determination to maintain the ' Union. There is no spectacle, says a great poet, more inspiring than a brave man strug j gling with danger, and can there be any j spectacle more inspiring than a great people ' struggling with their enemies. The fiend, i slavery, which is the beginning of all our trorbles, in tearing itself from the Republic, seems determined to tear the vitals of the Republic, away with it. For however men may differ, Mr. .President, this is not merely a ! struggle for our existence as a free people, but ! it is a struggle between liberty and slavery.— j All other isues have subsided before litis issue. I Slavery in beginning the war, to perpetuate itself, has laid astro. g hand upon our free in- ! stitutious, aud is resolved, faiiiug itself, to i bury them in one common ruin. Those only ' deny it who themselves pray for the success of the rebellion, at:d those only believe what I ! have said who earnestly pray for the triumph | of the Union arms. And it is a fact well eal- ! i culated to agonize the soul, that hitter and 1 ' dreadlu! as letve bee:) the general suffering in j this extraordinary strife,notwithstanding tliou j sands of homes are covered wich mourning ; j although torrents of tears are shed over the freshly heaped graves of those who have fallen | in defence of our fl ig, yet all these terrible les- j : sons produce no impression upon many who ! live among and around us. These in°n see their j country bleeding at every pore, and have to j word of hope or comfort to give to her. While j we, forgetting all old antagonisms and parties, j while we throw off the cloaks of former organ- ' j izutiousaud reveal ourselves only in the garb of I [ patriotism, they clothe themselves with all the j , haired, and rancor and uncharitubleness for | ! which they hate keen so distinguished brfore, ! and prepare to strike at the country, if not in ! the name at least, in the name of the doctrines j of that candidate for the presidency who less ' than two years ago marshaled the boats of : disunion at the ballot box, and now leads an j army of traitors in the battle field. [Applause.] if, Mr. President,slavery is the cause of this j great crusade upon human liberty, its inline j dialo agents and ministers confess by all their acts that they are fully conscious of the truth of this assertion. They have pursued the fell purpose which lias now ripened into war, with a persistence which can only be explained by their ciose sympathy with the rebelliou itself, and their sincere ha red of the government of the United States. Calling themselves Demo crats, they ate banded together in favor of slavery and aristocracy. Let me take a prominent example of the school. The old man who lives in neglected solitude within an hour and a half's ride of the capital of Pennsylvania. lie is now beyond the Psalmist's age. lie entered the Presidential chair more than five years ago, with as fair an opportunity to serve and save this country as ever had been presented to man. He was elected upon a distinct and voluntary pledge that be would give to the people of the uu happy territory of Kansas the right to dispose of their own affairs in their own way. Had he been true to this, we should have bad neither secessiou or bloodshed. The history of bis uu paraileled treachery is written, written sir in carnage and in shame. It ought to be supposed that now lookiug over this history, he would sieze the occasion to expiate his mighty crime by some manifestation of public penitence.— It might be supposed that uow. in his old age, lie would secure the favor and forgiveness of Heaven by appealing to those he still controls, to rally to the common defence andtoshun his fatal example. But no, gentlemen, so far from this the animating soul of the rebellion in the southern states is not more Jefferson Davis than the animating soul of the rebellion in the free states is James Buchanan. He seems to desire the immortal infamy of dragging our glorious Uuiou iuto the dishonored grave he is himself soou to till. Arouud his owu home, as proved by tli3 conveution which assembled in bis own couut.y a tew weeks ago, and by that which disgraced this hall on the 4th of July,his former followers, doubtless under his lead and counsel, mocked at the perils of the nation aud delight iu uothing so much as to embarrass and retard tbe operations of the constituted authorities. Is it possible that this man ar.d his parasites can rally auy portion of the people of Pennsyl vania to tbetr standard ? Monuments themsel ves of the mercy of the government, permitted to live iu comfort under tbe flag they toiled to defame aud to dishonor, shall these meu be permitted to go on in their w:rk of treason ? Tbey proclaim tbafc this way js an abolition • war—a war for the emancipation of the slaves —a war for negro equality—a war in which 1 the white man is to be driven out of the field of labor by the colored race. This is the sta ple of their creed. This is the burden of their cry. Will James Buchanan, or any one of his creatures, here or elsewhere, inform me whether it was the abolitionists that formed the Lecompton constitution, and forced it upon the people of Kansas ? Whether it was the aboli tionists that fabricated the English bill,as mea sure even more infamous? Was it the aboli tionists that persecuted aod proscribed Walker and Dougias and Broderick ? Did they mur der Broderick? Did they retain in the Buchanan Cabinet the incarnate traitors who robbed the Federal Treasury, decimated the army, sent our navy to distant seas, sacked our arseuals— seat to southern ports incalculable supplies of the munitions of war ? Was it the abolition ists, in a word, that prepared the way for the culmination of war, leaving to Mr. Lincoln a bankrupt and enfeebled government, compell ing him to reach the capital of the nation al most a fugitive and surrounding his inaugura tion with ail the ceremonials of, and prepara tions for iuternal strife ? But,sir,apart from the duty of exposing these impenitent and remorse less foes, there are other duties which must be discharged, and to wiiich the great organiza tion born to-day, must dedicate itself with stern ! aud self sacrificing patriotism. [Applause j The adjournment of Congress leaves to Mr- Lincolu those high responsibilities which he has proven himself so able to bear. lie will find himself strengthened for still stronger measures by ample legislation. He can now throw himself upon the people and prosecute ; the war with renewed vigor. As, your resolu tions so well express it,it is fortunate "that we have at the helm of public affairs one so pru- J dent, so upright, temperate and firm." Great ; are his trials, and great his labors. It has of ten been said that the duties of the Presiden ! cy were too much in times of peace for any one man ; several of our Chief Magistrates ! have fallen under the weight of these duties. ! But what must his ccnduiOD be who in the midst of the remorseless rebellion, must give ! all his time and all of his judgement to lhe j solution of stupendous and novel complications He cannot satisfy all men ? he carmot at ' a blow strike down every great wrong ; it is possible that he may have been mistaken j in the supposition that the slaveholding trea i son might be indulgently and maganimously treated, and that the best way to convince the rebels was to exhibit to them a willinguess of | the Government to offer peace in the midst of | war, and omnesty on condition of prompt sub | mission. But now, that experience has shown | that no moderation can reach the authors of this great crime, the President will undoubted ly profit by the lesson. And lam sure that the voice that goes up from this Convention today will invigorate and inspire him in the vigorous policy which is about to be inaugurat ed ; a policy which I feel sure will be as strin | gent and as determined as the most exacting and enthusiastic of us could desire. Bucked by the people, and empowered by law, there will hereafter be no hesitation iu the employ ment of all means to put down the rebelliou. No more doubts as to the confiscation of the property of rebels, no more protection of their houses, and crops, and goods and chatties.— Practical measures will lorever dissipate the miserable cry about negro equality and negro ! emancipation. Wonderful is the advance that has been made in public sentiment on these questions. Some of the most distinguished Democrats in Congress now take ground in 1 favor of the employment of blacks in the army of the United States as a measure of impera tive wisdom and uecessitv. The partisans who roam about the laud alariuiDg ignorant people with pictures of a black exodus from the slave into free States,who look for riots iu the great cities as a consequence of the competition of whites and blacks iu various fields of labor, can read their own doom and the refutation of their own falsehoods in the ground takeu by genuine Democrats iu the National Legislature on this iuiportaut issue. Whether tuey see it or not, whether they realize this or not, the people realize it. The object of this war is uot abolition, but vindication—not abolition of slavery—but vindication of the offended ma jesty of the laws. To this end we send our white meu into the held to fight in our armies. To save them from the privations of the long, weary march, to relieve them from the heavy service that wearies and wastes them in the trenches and on our fortifications,it is proposed to invoke the aid of the thousands of colored meu who are set free, uot by the abolitionists, but by the slaveholders themselves. When this race is fully assured they may render such a service, and be rewarded for it ; there will be no farther tlight into the free towns of the North aud North-west ; but they will gladly remain under that flag which, while protecting them, they themselves defend. One other lesson has beeu taught within the last year, and that is, if the most loyal of the white people are those who are fighting for the Constitution and the Union, so the mo