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- " - ' "- -" " " '" - Hii'ii.iw.i .lliimrnjm jJ...i(rTJ - ' ' I ' l-l ' ' "1 " MX ' . i.iu.t. , ..,. ,. . TV Richard Nugent, Editor The whole art of Government consists in the .art of being honest. Jefferson. asad Publisher VOL. I. STROUDSBURG. MONROE COUNTY, PA,, FRIDAY, AUGUST 14, 1840. 7 as, 7 7 No 29. 9 I JEFFERSONIAN REPUBLICAN tppms. Two dollars nor annum in advance Two dollars and a quarter, half yearlv, and if not paid before the end of tie rear, Two dollars and a half. Those who receive their pa- li hrt pjinnrd 37 1-2 cts. ner vear. extra. "o papers discontinued until all arrearages are paid, except . the option oi me cuuor. r-?Aiivcrtiscmentsnot exceeding one square sixteen lines) it be inserted three weeks for one dollar : twenty-five cents -virr subseaifcent insertion : larccr ones in proportion. A .-ral discount will be made to yearly advertisers. jAll letters addressed to the Editor must be post paid. JOB PRINTING. Hu.ing a general assortment of large elegant plain and orna mental Type, we are prepared to execute every des cription of Cards, Circulars, Bill Heads, Notes, Blank Receipts, JUSTICES, LEGAL AND OTHER BdANKS, PAMPHLETS, &c. Printed with neatness and despatch, on reasonable terms. ELAWARI? ACADEMY. The Trustees of this Institution, have the j.Ieasure of announcing to the public, and par t.uularly to the friends of education, that they . ive engaged Ira B. Newman, as Superinten .'.nt and Principal of their Academy. The Trustees invite the attention of parents .nd guardians, wbo have children to send from uome, to this Institution. They are fitting up ' lie building in the first style, and its location irom its retired nature is peculiarly favorable tor a boarding school. It commands a beauti ;ul view of the Delaware river, near which it is situated, and the surrounding scenery such is the lover of nature will admire it is easily accessible the Easton andMilford Stages pass it daily, and only 8 miles distant from the latter ;ilace, and a more salubrious section of coun try can nowhere be found. No fears need be entertained that pupils will contract pernicious habits, or be seduced into vicious company it is removed from all places of resort and those inducements to neglect their studies that are furnished in large towns and villages. Board can be obtained very low and near the Academy. Mr. Daniel W. Dingman, jr. will lake several boarders, his house is very conve nient, and students will there be under the im mediate care of the Principal, whose reputa tion, deportment and guardianship over his pu pils, afford the best security for their proper conduct, that the Trustees can give or parents and guardians demand. The course of instruction will be thorough adapted to the age of the pupil and the time he designs to spend in literary pursuits. Young men may qualify themselves for entering upon the stud of the learned professions or for an advanced stand at College for mercantile pur suits, for teaching or the business of cQmmon life, useful will be preferred to ornamental stud ies, nevertheless so much of the lafter attended to as the advanced stages of the pupil's educa tion will admit. The male and female depart :nent will be under the immediate superintend dence of the Principal, aided by a competen i n t - . . T maie or lemaie Assistant, j wessons .in music will be given to young ladies on the Piano Forte at the boarding house of the principal, by an experienced and accomplished Instructress Summer Session commences May 4th. EXPENSES. Board for Young Gentleman or Ladies with the Principal, per week, . SI 50 Pupils from 10 to 15 years of age from SI to Si 25 Tuition for the Classics, Belles-Lettres, French &c, per quarter, 2 OQ Extra for music, per quarter, 5 00 N. B. A particular course of study wjlll be marked out for those who wish to qualify "them selves forCommon School Teachers with ref erence to that object : apphcatiorrmade or teachers to the trustees or principal will meet immediate attention, Lectures on the various subjects of study wil be delivered by able speakers, through the course of year. By ordorofthe Board, DANIEL W. DINGMAN. Pres: Dingman's Ferry, Pike co. Pa., May 2 1840 - t NO The Book of SubscriprSptb the Stock of the Upper Lehigh Navigation Company, will be re opened at Stoddartsville, on Wednesday, the 15th day of July ensuing, when subscriptions will be received for the balance of stock which remains vet open. At the same time and place the Stock holders will elect a board of Directort. Charles Trump. John S. Comfort, Henry W. Drinker William P. Clark, June 10, 1310. Commissioners N. 13. Proposals will be received at Stoddarts ville, on Thursday the 10th day of July ensuing, for doing the work cither wholly or in jobs, rcqui red by building a lock and inclined plane with the necessary grading, fixtures and machinery for passing rafts descending the Jjehigh over the Falls at Stoddartsville. It is exp"ectcd that the work will be commenced assoonas practicable and be ompteted with despatch. Invitation to the Log Cabin Boys, to Old Tippe canoe Raisin', as sung by the Buck Eye Black smith, at the Whig meeting at Easton, August 3rd, 1840. Tune The good old days of Adam and Eve Come, all you Log Cabin Boys, we're going to have a raisin', We've got a job on hand, that we think will be pleasin', We'll turn out and build Old Tip a new Cabin, And finish it off with chinkin' and daubing We want all the Log Cabin Boys in the nation, To bo on the ground when we lay the foundation; And we'll make all the office-holders think its amazin', To see how we work at Old Tippecanoe's raisin'. On the thirtieth day of jiext October, We'll take some Hard Cider, but we'll all keep sober ; We'll shoulder our axes and cut down the timber, And have our Cabin' done by -the second of December, We'll have it well chink'd, and we'll have on the cover, Of good sound clapboards, with the weight poles over, And a good wide chimney for the fire to blaze in: So come on boys, to Old Tippecanoe's raisin'. Ohio will find the houselosr timber. And Old Virginia, as you'll remember, 11T:11.JA..;...1 . r i . 'i vv in nnu me mnoer lor tne ciapuoards and ciimkm , 'Twill all be the first rate stuff I'm thinkin' : And when we want to daub it, it happens very lucKy That we have got the best Clay in Old Kentucky; For there's no other State has such rood clavs in. To make the mortar for Old Tippecanoe's raisin'. For the hauling of the logs, we'll" call on Pennsyl vania, For their Conestoga teams will pull as well as any, And the Yankee States and York State, and all of the others, Will come and help us lift like so manv brothers. The Hoosiers and the Suckers, and the Wolve rine farmers, They all know the right way to carry up the cor ners, And every one's a good enough carpenter and mason, To do a little work at Old Tippecanoejs raisin'. We'll cut out a window and have a wide door in, We'll lay a good loft and a first rate floor in, We'll fix it all complete, for Old Tip to see his friends in, And we know that the latch-string will never have its end in, ,gL 3 On the fourth dayWMarch, Old Tip will move in it, And then little Martin will have to shin it, So hurrah Boys, there's no two wrays in The fun we'll have at Old Tippecanoe's raisin'. Song for Crow. To be sung at the next Loco Lecture after the hot weather has passed. " Tell Chapman he .must Ccrow!" Pattison. Let all de British Torry, Who feel very low ; Keep stiff de upper lip, And give a loud Crow. Brag about and bet about And grin just so ; And every time you meet a Whig, Give a loud Crow! Massa Kendall give de order, " Charge on de foe !" Soeber be down hearted. But give a loud Crow! Brag, &c. Old Missis Grundv, WTio ebery thing do know ; He tell de Loco, "Give aloud Crow!" Brag, &c. Old Massa Ritchie He say just so Stick to de dunghill, And give a loud Crow ! Rrag, &c. Dere is Louisiana, jl No matter how sheo Only claim the battle, And give a loud Crow ! Brag, &c. Massa Van be frightenedjffc Every body know, Still he scold at-Amos, 'Cause he dosen't Crow ! Brag about, a-nd boast about, And Strut just so, Amd never lose de spirits, Rut give a loud Crow ! frontier Sketches. The rnatcrials for the following intensely inter esting narrative were collected by the author of the "life of Brant,," the celebrated Indian chief, during a tour made by him, from New-York, to the Wyoming Valley in the summer of 1839. Many ofXour readers have without doubt, some knowledge of the family, which is the subject of the sketch. Its accuracy be entirely depended upon. During our unef sojourn in this valley of leep and varied 'hlsoriael interest, we had the dcasure oLforiring soino acquaintance with a lady of the Slocum. FAftiLYSistinguished for its sufferings in the scenes of the revolutionary war which ve have -been contemplating in these numbers, and recently brought more con spicuously before the public in connexion with a romantic tale of a long lost, but recently dis covered sister. , Mr. Slocum, the father of the subject qf the present narrative, was a non-combatant being a member of the society of Friends. Feeling himself therefore safe from the hostility even of the savages, hedid not join the survivors, of the massacre in their flight, but remained qui etly upon his farm his house standing in close proximity to the village of VVilkes'barre. But the beneficent principles of his faith -had little weight with the Indians, notwithstanding the af fection with which their race had been treated by the founder qf Quakerism in Pennsylvania the illustrious Penn and longhad the fami ly cause to mourn their imprudence in not re treating from the doomed 'valley with. their neighbors. Jt was in the autumn of the same year of the invasion by Butler and Gi-en-gwah-toh, at mid- i ay, when the men were laboring in a distant leld, that the house of Mr. Slocum was sudden ly surrounded by a party of Dela'wares, prowl ing about the valley, in more earnest search, as it seemed, of plunder than of scalps or prison ers. At least such is the most natural infer ence to be drawn from their conduct, since, had their design, or their caprice, prompted a more bloody course, they had every opportunity for its indulgence. The inmates of the house at the moment of the surprise Were Ixs. Slocum and four young children, the eldest of whonj was a son aged thirteen, the second was a daughter, aged nine, the third, Frances Slocum aged five, and a little son aged two years and a half. Near by the house, at. a grindstone, en gaged in grinding a knife, was ayoung man named Kingsley, assisted in the operation by a lad. The first hostile act of theilndians was to shdjot dov.n Kingsley, andkeis scalp with the knife he had been shWjfening. The girl nine years old seems to nave had the most presence of mind, for iteathe mother ran into the edge of a copse cTiwoffd near by, and little Frances attempted tosecrete herself behind a stair-case, the former at the moment seized her little brother, thp youngest above mentioned, and ran off in The'tdirection of the fort. True, she could not make rapid progress, for she clung to the child, and not even the pursuit of the savages could induce her to drop her charge. The Indiansdid not .pursue her far, and laughed heirtily at the panic of the little girl, while they could hot but admire her resolution. Allowing her to make her escape, they returned to. the house, and after helping themselves to such articles as they chose, pre pared to depart. The mother seems to have been unobserved by them, although, with a yearning bosom, she had so disposed of herself that while she was screened from observation she could notice all that occurred. But judge of her feelings the moment they were about to depart, as she saw little Frances taken from her hiding place, and preparations made'to cary her away into captivity, along with her brother, already men tioned as being thirteen years old, (antt who, by the way, had been,rcstramed Irom attempt ed flight by lamenessrin one of his feet.) and also the lad who had been assistfns: Kingslev at the grindstone. The sight wasttoo much for maternal tenderness to endure. Rushing forth from her place of concealment,fctherefore. she threw herself upon her knees at the feet ofiher captors, and with the most earnest entreaties pleaded for their restoration. But their bosoms were made of sterner stuff than to yield ever? to the most eloquent and affectionate of 4? moth er's entreaties, and wkh characteristicstoicism they began to remove. As a last rosnrt tbp mother appealed to tljeir selfishness, and point ing to tne maimed loot ol her crippled son, urged as a reason why at least they should re linquish him, the delays and embarrassments lie would occasion them in their journey. Being un able to walk they would of course be compelled to carry him the. whole distance, or leave Irim by the way, or take his life. Although insensible to the feelings of humanity, these considera tions had the desired effect. The lad was left behind, while deaf alike to the cries., of the mother, and the shrieks of the child, little Fran ces was slung over the shoulder of a stalwart Indian with as much indifference as though she was a slaughtered fawn. The long, lingering look which the mother gave to her child, ryj her captors disappeared in the forest, was the last glimpse of her sweet leatures that she ever had. But the vision was for many a long year ever present to her fancy. As the Tndian threw her child over his shoul der, her hair fell over her faceand, tho. mother could never forget how the tears Streamed down her cheeks, when she brushed it away' as jf to caicn a last sad look of the mother, from whom. her little arms outstretched, she impltfrcd as sistance in vain. Nor was this the last visit of the savage to the domicil of Mr. Slocum. About a month thereafter, another horde of the barba rians, rushed, down from the mountains, and murdered tho aged grandfather of 4I1Q little cap tive, and wounded the lad, already lame, by discharging a ball which lodged in his leg, and which he carried with him to his grave more than half a century afterwrrd. These events cast a shadow over the re maining years of Mrs. Slocum. She lived to see many bright and sunny days in that beauti ful valley bright and sunny, alas, to her no longer. She mourned for the lost one, of whom no tidings, at least during her pilgrim age, could be obtained. After her sons grew up, the youngest of whom, by the way, was bn,rn but a few months subsequent to the events already narrated, obedient to the charge of their mo.ther, the most unwearied efforts were made Jo ascertain what had been the fate of the lost sister. The forests1 between the Susquehanna and the great lakes, and even the more distant wilds of Canada, were traversed by the bro thers in vain, nor could any information re specting her be derived from the Indians. In process of time these efforts were relinquished as hopeless. The lost one might have fallen beneath the- tomahawk, or might' have proved too tender a flower for transplantation into the wilderness or but no maUer. Conjecture was baffled, and the mother, with a sad heart, sank into the grave, as also did thefather, be lieving with the Hebrew patriarch that " the child was not." The years of a generation passed, and the memory of little Frances was forgotten, save by two brothers and a sister, who, though ad vanced in the vale of life, could not forget the Oimily tradition of the lost one. Indeed it had been the dying charge of rheir mother that they must never relinquish their exertions to discover Frances. A change now comes over the spir it of our story. It happened that in the course of the year 1835, Colonel Ewing, a gentleman connected with the Indian trade, and also wit the public service of the country, while travers ing a remote section of Indiana, was-overtaken by the night, while at a distance from the abodes of civilized man. Becoming too dar for him to pursue his way, he sought an Indian habitation, and was so fortunate as to find she! 1 1 ter and a welcome in one ot the better sort The proprietor of the lodgewas indeed opulent ior an Indian possessing norses and skins and other comforts in abundance. He t struck in the course of the evenincr bv the an pearance'jof the venerable mistress of theodge whose complexion was lighter thanthat of her lamily, and as glimpses were occasionally dis closed of her skin beneath her blanket-robe the Colonel was impressed with the opinion that she was a white woman. Colonel Ewing coultLconverse in the Miami language, to which . T 1 . I'l . .r - .1 -r. . 1 -n jiaviuu ma uuai ueiungeu, uriu auer pariaKing 01 the best of their cheer, he drew the squaw into a conversation, which soon confirmed his sus picions that she was only an Indian by adoption Her narrative was substantially as follows: My father s name was Slocum. He resided on the banks of the Susquehanna, but the name of the village I do not recollect. Sixty win ters and'summers have gone since I was taken a captive by a party of Delawares, while I was playingbefore my father's house. I was too young to feel for any length of time the mis ery and anxiety which my parents must have experienced. The kindness and affection with which I was treated bv my Indian captors, soon effaced my childish uneasiness, and in a short twine I became one of them. The first night 0 my captivity was passed in a cave near the sum mit of a mountain, but a little distance from my lather s. Idiat night was the unhappiestof my me, ana tne impressions wnicn it made, were the means of indelibly stamping on my memory my lather s name and residence,. For years we leclaTroying life, I became accustomed to and fond.of their manner of living. They taught me the use ot the bow and arrow, and the beasts of the forest supplied me with food. I married 111 chief of our tribe, whom I had long loved for his bravery and humanity, and kindly did he treat me. I dreaded tho sight of a white man, for I was taught to believe Kim the implacable enemy of tho Indian. I thought he was deter mined to separate me from my husband, and my tribe. After being a number of years with my hnsband ho died. A part 01 my people then joined the Miamis, and I was among them. then married a Miami, who was called by the pale faces tha deaf man. I lived with him good many winters, until he died. I had by him two sons and two daughters. I am now old, and have nothing to fear from tho "white man. My husband, and all my children but theso two daughters, -my brothers and sisters have all gone to the Great Spirit, and I shall go in a lew moons more, until this mo ment I have never revealed my name, or told the mystery that hung over the fate of Fran ces Slocum." Sjich was the substance of the revelation tQ Colonel Ewing. Still the family at Wyoming knew nothing of the discovery, nor djd Colo nel Ewing know anything of them. And it was only by reason of a peculiarly Provideii tiarcircumstance, that the tidings ever reached their ears. On Col. Ewings return to his own. home., hp related the adventure to his mother who, with'the just feolingsrofa woman.-grged him to take some measure to make tho, discov- ery knowfi, and at her solicitation he was indu ced to write a narrative of the case, which he addressed tD ihe Postmaster at Lancaster, with request that it might it be published in some , Pennsylvania newspaper. But trie latter func tionary, having no knowledge ofthe writer, and supposing that very probably it might be a hoax,paid no attention to it, and the letter was suffered to remain among the worthless accu-. mulatlons of the office for the space of two years. It chanced then that the post-master's wife, in rummaging over some old papers, while putting the office in order one day 'glanced her eyes upon this communication. The story Excited her interest, and withnhe true feelings of a wo man, she resolved upon giving the document publicity. With this view she sent it to tha neighboring editor. And here, again, another providential circumstauce intervened. It hap pened that a temperance comrdiite-e had enga ged a portion of the columns of the paper to which the letter of Col. Ewing was sent, for the publication of an important document, and it yet again happened that a number of this paper was addressed to a clergyman who had a broth er residing in "Wyoming. Having, from that brother, heard the story of the captivity of Fran ces Slocum, he had no sooner read the letier of Col. Ewing, than he enclosed it to, him, and by him it was placed in the hands of Jo seph Slocum Esq. the surviving brother. We will not attempt to describe the sensa tions produced by this most welcome most strange, and most unexpected intelligence. This Mr. Joseph Slocum was the child, two years and a half old, that had been rescued by his intrepid sister, nine years old. That sister also survived, as also dichhe younger brother living in Ohio. Arrangements were imme diately made by the former two, to meet the . latter in -Ohio, and proceed thence to the Mi ami country, and reclaim the long lost and now found sister. " I shall know her if she be my sister," said the elder sister now going in pur suit, " although she may be painted and jew elled off, and dressed in her Indian blanket for you, brother, hammered off her fingernail in the blacksmith's shop, when she was four years old." In due season they reached the desig nated place, and found their sister. But, alas I how changed ! Instead of the fair haired and laughing girl, the picture. yet living in their im aginations theyfound her an aged and thorough bred squaw, in everything but complexion. But there could be no mistake as to her identity. The .elder sister soon discovered thefinreV 'mark. " How came the nail of that finger gone she inquired. 'Myolder brotherpoun ded it off when I was a little girl, in the shop,1 sie replied! This circumstance was evidence enough but other reminiscences were awaken ed and the recognition was complete. But how different were the emotions of the par ties ! The brothers paced the lodge in agitation T,he divilized sister was in tears. The other obedient to the affected stoicism of her adopt ed race, was as cold, unmoved, and passionless as marble. It was in' vain that they besought her sister to return with them to her native valley, and to bring her children along with her if she chose. Every offer andimpoitunity were alike declined, she said she was well enoughoff and was hap py. Jbhe had morever prqmised her husband, on his death-bed never to leave the Indians. Her two daughter's had both been married, but one ol them was a widow. The hnshnm! nf the other is a lialf breed named, BrouilleMe, who is said to be oneof the noblest lookino- men of his race. They all have an abundance of Indian wealth, and her daughters mount their steeds and manage them as well as in tho days of chivalry did the rather masculine spouse of Count Robert of Paris. They live at a place called The Deaf JVIan's Village; nine miles from Peru, in Indiana. But notwithstanding the com parative comfort in which they live, thauitter ig norance of their sister, was a subject of painful contemplation, one had entirely forgotten her native language, and was completely a pagan' having no .knowledge even of the white man's Sabbath. - When we left Wyoming, Mr. Joseph Slo cum was about commencing a.second journey to see his sister, to be accompanied by his two daughters. We have since heard that the vis it has been performed.- Frances is said to have been delighted with the beauty and annnmnli?h. J her. white -.nieces, but resolutely re refuses to return to the abodes of civilized man. ' She resides witli her daughters in a comfortable lq&buildingbut in all her habits. and manners, her ideas and thoughts, she is as thoroughly Indian as though not a drop of u bi o blood flowed in her veins. She is representr 1 as having manifested for an Indian an unwon ted degree of pleasure at the return of a broth er ; but both mother and duaghters spurned every persuasive to win them back from tho' country and manners of their people. Indeed as all their ideas of happiness are associated with tjieir present mode of life, . change would be productive of little good, so far as temporal affairs are concerned, wlyle, unless they could be won from Paganism to Christianity, their Jives .would drag along in irksome restraint, if not in pining sorrow. 4 '4 1 S i t - 1 -, r-- . MU ' - 'S? Jit. .. -