Part 6

Thus ended the fight of Diamond Island; a fight which, if attended with better success, might have perhaps hastened the surrender of Burgoyne, and resulted in other advantages to the American arms. As it was, however, the British line of communication on Lake George was not broken, while the American leaders took good care to prevent this failure from reaching the public ear through the press. Thus Colonel Brown’s reports to General Lincoln remained unpublished. They have now been brought out to be put on permanent record, as interesting material for American history.

To-day the summer tourist who rows out to this lovely isle, which commands delightful views of the lake far and wide, will see no evidences of the struggle, but will find the very atmosphere bathed in perfect peace. Of relics of the old wars, which for more than a hundred years caused the air to jar, and echoing hills to complain,--there are none. The ramparts that once bristled with cannon have been smoothed away, and the cellar of an ancient house is all the visitor will find among the birches to tell of the olden occupancy of man.

(The Late Rev.) B. F. DACOSTA.

NEW YORK CITY.

Lieutenant Colonel John Brown (1774-1780), a native of Berkshire county, Massachusetts, was a Yale graduate of 1771, and in 1774 visited Canada as a horse dealer, to ascertain the sentiments of the Canadians towards the principles of our impending Revolution. His subsequent experiences with Arnold in the Quebec campaign are matters of history, but his early death, in the encounter at Stone Arabia, N. Y., in 1780, just after the discovery of Arnold’s treachery, prevented the details of his specific accusations against the latter from becoming public. His descendants in Boston have long been preparing to issue a detailed biography, which should be a valuable contribution to the literature of the Revolution. The story of his Lake George fight was practically unknown before Dr. DeCosta’s article was written [for the N. E. Historic Genealogic Society] and although it was afterward published in pamphlet form, so few copies were printed that it has been inaccessible to the general reader.

Mr. William L. Stone furnishes me with the following particulars regarding Captain Aubrey: He came with his regiment from Ireland to America in 1773, and served throughout the Revolution. He commanded his company at Bunker Hill, and when in the spring of 1776 the regiment was sent to reinforce Carleton in Canada, he accompanied it and aided in the expulsion of the American forces. After Burgoyne’s surrender, Aubrey’s detachment returned to Canada and he remained there and in command of the post at the entrance to Lake Ontario for a long time. He died in London, January 15, 1814.--[ED.]

FOOTNOTES:

[28] Silliman, who was here in 1819, says: “The crystals are hardly surpassed by any in the world for transparency and perfection of form. They are, as usual, the six-sided prism, and are frequently terminated at both ends by six-sided pyramids. These last, of course, must be found loose, or, at least, not adhering to any rock; those which are broken off have necessarily only one pyramid.”--_Silliman’s Travels_, p. 153.

[29] This affair was alluded to by the English, though the Americans said nothing. Among recent writers, I have found no notice beyond that by Lossing in his Field Book, vol. i., p. 114. When the present writer composed his work on Lake George he had not found the official account by Col. Brown.

[30] See _Relations des Jesuits_, 1646, p. 15.

[31] Mr. Parkman, in his work _The Jesuits in America_ (p. 219), has indeed stated that Father Jogues ascended Lake George in 1642, when, in company with Père Goupil, he was carried away a prisoner by the Indians.

The opinion of Mr. Parkman is based on a manuscript account of that journey, taken down from Father Jogues’ own lips by Father Buteux. The account, after describing the journey southward and over Lake Champlain, which occupied eight days, says that they “arrived at the place where one leaves the canoes” (_où l’on quitte les canots_), and then “marched southward three days by land,” until they reached the Mohawk villages. But there is nothing whatever in the description, by which we can recognize a passage over Lake George, nothing about the portage, the falls, nor the outlet. Everything turns chiefly on the fact that they _arrived at the place where one leaves the canoes_. This place, it is assumed, was the head of Lake George, from whence there was a trail southward. Now in regard to the existence of such a trail at that period, there can be no doubt; yet unquestionably it was not the _only_ trail followed by the Indians. The old French map shows two trails to the Mohawk villages, one from the head of Lake George, and the other from the South-west Bay.

It is true that Champlain, in 1609, intended to go to the Mohawk country, by Lake George, yet at the period of Jogue’s captivity we have no account of any one taking that route. Father Jogues himself clearly did not cross the lake in 1646. It is distinctly said that they arrived at the end of the lake (_bout de lac_) on the eve of the Festival of _St. Sacrament_, when they named the lake, and the next day went south _on foot_, carrying their packs on their backs. This is the view given by every one who has treated the subject in print, including Mr. Parkman himself.

To this it has been answered that _bout de lac_ always means the _head_ of the lake, and that the terms are so used in the _Relations_; yet if we return to the _Relations_ of 1668 (vol. ii., p. 5), detailing the journey of Fathers Fremin, Pieron and Bruyas, we find that this is not the case. The writer there says that while he and others delayed on an island in Lake Champlain, the boatmen went forward, “landing at the _end_ of the Lake (_bout de lac_) du St. Sacrement, and preparing for the portage.” At this place, the north end of the lake, there is a heavy portage, in order to get around the Falls of Ticonderoga. In the next sentence he again calls this end of the lake, which is the north end or outlet, _bout de lac_. But we have also to remind the reader, that the place where Father Jogues _left his canoe_, in 1646, was at the north end of the lake (the foot), which he, like the others, calls _bout de lac_. The language is so translated by Parkman and others who have mentioned the circumstances. _Bout de lac_, in the Jesuit _Relations_, therefore does not mean the _head_ of the lake. We see, then, that we have not sufficient reason for supposing that “the place where one leaves the canoes” meant the head, or south end of Lake George, and consequently that the alleged passage over the lake by Jogues, in 1642, is indefensible.

[32] State of the Expedition from Canada. By Burgoyne. p. xciv. Ed. 1780.

[33] Gates Papers, p. 194.

[34] Gates Papers, p. 208.

[35] State of the Expedition from Canada, p. 53.

[36] Gates Papers, p. 218.

[37] Gates Papers, p. 220.

INDIAN LEGENDS

II

THE MAIDEN OF THE MOON

[The following legend was obtained from the lips of a Chippewa woman named Penaqua, or the Female Pheasant, and I hardly know which to admire most, the simple beauty of the plot, or the graphic and unique manner of the narrative, of which, I regret to say, I can hardly give a faithful translation.]

Among the rivers of the North, none can boast of more numerous charms than the St. Louis, and the fairest spot of the earth which it waters is that where now (1847) stands the trading post of Fond du Lac. Upon this spot, many summers ago, there lived a Chippewa chief and his wife, who were the parents of an only daughter. Her name was _Sweet Strawberry_, and she was acknowledged to be the most beautiful maiden of her nation. Her voice was like that of the turtle-dove, and the red deer was not more graceful and sprightly in its form. Her eyes were brilliant as the star of the northern sky, which guides the hunter through the wilderness, and her dark hair clustered around her neck like grape vines around the trunk of the tree they loved. The young men of every nation had striven to win her heart, but she smiled upon none. Curious presents were sent to her from the four quarters of the world, but she received them not. Seldom did she deign to reply to the many warriors who entered her father’s lodge, and when she did, it was only to assure them that while upon earth she would never change her condition. Her strange conduct astonished them, but did not subdue their affection. Many and noble were the deeds they performed, not only in winning the white plumes of the eagle, but in hunting the elk and the black bear. But all their exploits availed them nothing, for the heart of the beautiful girl was still untouched.

The snows of winter were all gone, and the pleasant winds of spring were blowing over the land. The time for making sugar had arrived, though the men had not yet returned from the remote hunting grounds, and in the maple forests bright fires were burning, and the fragrance of the sweet sap filled all the air. The ringing laugh of childhood and the mature song of women, were heard in the valley, but in no part of the wilderness could be found more happiness than on the banks of the St. Louis. But the _Sweet Strawberry_ mingled with the young men and maidens of her tribe, in a thoughtful mood and with downcast eyes. She was evidently bowed down by some mysterious grief, but she neglected not her duties; and though she spent much of her time alone, her buchère-bucket was as frequently filled with the sugar juice as any of her companions.

Such was the condition of affairs, when a party of young warriors from the far North came upon a frolic to the St. Louis River. Having seen the many handsome maidens of this region, the strangers became enamored of their charms, and each one succeeded in obtaining the love of a maiden, who was to become his bride during the marrying season of summer.

The warriors had heard of the _Sweet Strawberry_, but, neglected by all of them, she was still doomed to remain alone. She witnessed the happiness of her old playmates, and, wondering at her own strange fate, spent much of her time in solitude. She even became so unhappy and bewildered that she heeded not the tender words of her mother, and from that time the music of her voice was never heard.

The sugar making season was now rapidly passing away, but the brow of the _Sweet Strawberry_ was still overshadowed with grief. Everything was done to restore her to her wonted cheerfulness, but she remained unchanged. Wild ducks in innumerable numbers arrived with every southern wind, and settled upon the surrounding waters, and proceeded to build their nests in pairs, and the Indian maiden sighed over her mysterious doom. On one occasion she espied a cluster of early spring flowers peering above the dry leaves of the forest, and, strange to say, even these were separated into pairs, and seemed to be wooing each other in love. All things whispered to her of love, the happiness of her companions, the birds of the air, and the flowers. She looked into her heart, and inwardly praying for a companion whom she might love, the Master of Life took pity upon her lot and answered her prayer.

It was now the twilight hour, and in the maple woods the Indian boys were watching their fires and the women were bringing in the sap from the surrounding trees. The time for making sugar was almost gone, and the well-filled mocucks, which might be seen in all the wigwams, testified that the yield had been abundant. The hearts of the old women beat in thankfulness, and the young men and maidens were already beginning to anticipate the pleasures of wedded life and those associated with the sweet summer time. But the brow of the _Sweet Strawberry_ continued to droop, and her friends looked upon her as a victim of a settled melancholy. Her duties, however, were performed without a murmur, and so continued to be performed until the trees refused to fill her buchère-bucket with sap, when she stole away from the sugar camp and wandered to a retired place to muse upon her sorrows. Her unaccountable grief was very bitter, but did not long endure; for, as she stood gazing upon the sky, the moon ascended above the hills and filled her soul with a joy she had never felt before. The longer she looked upon the brilliant object, the more deeply in love did she become with its celestial charms, and she burst forth into a song--a loud, wild, and joyous song. Her musical voice echoed through the woods, and her friends hastened to ascertain the cause. They gathered around her in crowds, but she heeded them not. They wondered at the wildness of her words, and the airy-like appearance of her form. They were spellbound by the scene before them, but their astonishment knew no limits when they saw her gradually ascend from the earth into the air, where she disappeared, as if borne upward by the evening wind. And then it was that they discovered her clasped in the embraces of the moon, for they knew that the spots which they saw within the circle of that planet were those of her robe, which she had made from the skins of the spotted fawn.

Many summers have passed away since the _Sweet Strawberry_ became the Maiden of the Moon, yet among all the people of her nation is she ever remembered for her beauty and the mystery of her being.

(The late) CHARLES LANMAN.

[Illustration]

THE FIRST WOMAN IN THE POST OFFICE DEPARTMENT

Just the other day, during a housecleaning in the Post Office Department, a number of autograph letters written by men famous in American history were discovered in an old and battered file-case. The file-case had evidently been considered of no value, for it had been stowed away in a little-used portion of the cellar, and would undoubtedly have eventually been broken up and its contents lost or destroyed.

The papers include letters of recommendation by Horace Greeley, Garfield, Sumner, and others of then national prominence. Among the papers was the record of the first woman appointed to the postal service and one of the first employed in the Government departments in Washington in any capacity.

The documents are considered as of more than ordinary interest, particularly as autograph letters of recommendation from prominent men are now practically things of the past. The general use of the typewriter, and the fact that almost every man of prominence has a private secretary, are largely responsible for this modern condition.

Autograph letters of recommendation, moreover, are not looked upon with favor in Government departments nowadays, and a missive from Horace Greeley such as the one on file would probably be thrown in the waste basket as undecipherable. The appearance of this letter justifies all things that were ever said about the great editor’s chirography.

One of the most interesting papers in the collection is an autograph letter written by Elisha Whittlesey of the comptroller’s office in the Treasury Department, to Montgomery Blair, then Postmaster General, which resulted in the appointment of the first woman employee of the postal service and the second to be employed by any Government department in Washington. The letter follows:

“Treasury Department, Comptroller’s Office, December 23, 1861.

SIR: Having understood you had decided to employ females in the dead letter office under a recent act of Congress authorizing you to employ an additional force, I present for your consideration the application of Miss Elizabeth Johnson of Cleveland, Ohio, who now and for some months past has been in this city.

She is a young lady, well educated, well behaved, and a member of the Presbyterian Church. Her father died some years since, leaving a widow and a large family of children.

Elizabeth D. was born in New Orleans, teaching school when the seceding States withdrew. Not disposing to remain there, she was protected by the colonel of a regiment from New Orleans to Richmond, who was acquainted with her. From Richmond she went to Norfolk, whence she came to Fortress Monroe with a trunk and flag of truce, from thence to Baltimore in the regular steamer, and from there here by railroad. A trunk containing her winter clothing was put in charge of a gentleman who came to this city and lost it between Richmond and Fortress Monroe.

The little money that she has is now exhausted, and she is in debt for a few weeks past. She is the person of whom an account was given at the time in the papers as having created a sensation on board of the boat by hurrahing when she first saw the stars and stripes on Fortress Monroe. Of her loyalty there can be no doubt, and for it I will be responsible.

It seems to me that you will not have a case that will appeal more strongly to your sense of justice nor to your sympathy or kindness. I was acquainted with her ancestors in Connecticut, and have seen her in Cleveland. Her application is before you and I hope it will prevail. I should have waited on you in person if I could leave the office without disappointing those creditors of the United States who are waiting for their money.

The Hon. Mr. Theaker is acquainted with Miss Johnson, and will wait on you in her behalf.

ELISHA WHITTLESEY.

P. S.--Mr. Theaker has heard of the death of his wife in Bridgeport, Ohio, and has left for his home. Prof. Donald McLean, a clerk in this office, will wait on you with this letter, and he is also acquainted with Miss Johnson.

E. W.”

Mr. Blair made the desired appointment, and Mr. Whittlesey’s letter bears the following endorsement in the Postmaster General’s handwriting:

“Somewhat mixed, but his heart is in the right place. Recommendation approved.”

_Star_, WASHINGTON, D. C.

HAND-LOOM WEAVING REVIVED

Seated on a thick oak plank, worn smooth and shiny by centuries of use as the seat of a hand loom, and with Mrs. Talbot seated on a similar plank in front of a second loom in the basement of his residence, No. 193 Power Street, Arnold G. Talbot, secretary of the Tockwotton Company, and well known in social circles of the East Side, has become a hand loom weaver. Side by side, with a light between them and another in each of the front corners of the little room, Mr. and Mrs. Talbot sit every week day evening and weave plain and pattern goods in silk, linen and cotton, on the looms and in the fashions of two centuries ago.

They do it partly for amusement and partly to satisfy an increasing demand for such goods as our grandmothers wove, among people with so much money that it is really doing them a service to separate them from some of it. They have what is probably the only hand loom establishment in this State, a practical exposition of the spread and possibilities of the modern arts and crafts movement. It is right in line with the present movement for hand work in wearing materials or house fabrics by those able to pay the necessarily increased cost.

In fact there are but few such establishments in this country. In the mountains of Kentucky hand weaving is still practiced, and the products of the mountaineers, handled through a semi-public institution, have a ready sale. In Massachusetts such goods are also selling. Mr. and Mrs. Talbot first thought of the possibilities of remunerative trade when they found a demand for hand weaving among friends who saw the results of their work of three hours every evening--from seven to ten o’clock--on the one loom with which they began work. Then they procured another loom in Johnston, the town from which the first one came, and set that up beside the one Mr. Talbot had bought as a curiosity. Now they have hired a Swede woman to come to work at the loom during the day. In Sweden all the girls are still taught in the country districts to operate a hand loom, and this woman has not been in this country long enough to forget what she was taught as a girl.

Mr. Talbot believes in old things. It is said by friends that there is nothing modern in his house except the present members of the family. He has one of the most strikingly beautiful mantels imaginable, taken from one of the old houses on South Main Street, in which the quality of the old town of Providence once lived, and his son and heir even sleeps in one of the trundle beds of song and story. So when a friend told him of the auction of goods of a collector of antiques in Johnston he went to the sale. No one else seemed to want the old hand loom there offered, so Mr. Talbot bought it, just for the sake of getting an unusual antique.

There must be many such looms in the garrets of the South County and other sections of the State, where they were shoved to one side half or three-quarters of a century ago, but few of them are set up and in working order as this one was. Mr. Talbot had the loom brought to his home and then started to put it together again. What he did not know about looms was vast and comprehensive, and Mrs. Talbot’s knowledge was equally vain. But together and with the help of a friend or two whose working idea of mechanics was as great as the Talbot willingness to learn, they finally had it set up in the room Mr. Talbot had used for his den. Then they went to work to learn how to run the thing.

Mr. Talbot has a wide acquaintance among mill men, and some of them volunteered to come to the Talbot home and show them how to read patterns, that they might reproduce old hand-loom designs. So they came, and were given some hand-made goods to read. One by one they confessed that, while they could read any machine-woven pattern, the difference in the methods of the machine and the hand looms was great enough to puzzle them. They could not read the patterns, that is, tell how they were woven--so many threads this way, so many that way, and the rest. They gave it up. Mrs. Talbot, who had a rare combination of gumption and energy, tackled the problem and puzzled it out. She picked up a little here and a little there, and was soon weaving, and weaving patterns, at that.

This was early last October. The first loom had no sooner been set up and started than Mr. and Mrs. Talbot found a new difficulty. The work was fascinating, the hours they had to give to it were few, and each wanted to use the loom at about the same time. So Mr. Talbot commissioned the man he had bought it from to find and buy another for them. The second one was found in Johnston, the town from which the first had come, and was set up beside the other. After that they peacefully wove every evening side by side.