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Jeffersonian Republican. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1840-1853, August 14, 1840, Image 1

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. TV
Richard Nugent, Editor
The whole art of Government consists in the .art of being honest. Jefferson.
asad Publisher
7 as, 7 7
No 29.
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.
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,
Printed with neatness and despatch, on reasonable terms.
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.
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,
Dingman's Ferry, Pike co. Pa., May 2 1840
- t
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,
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
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
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
Of good sound clapboards, with the weight poles
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
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
And every one's a good enough carpenter and
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
Jt was in the autumn of the same year of the
invasion by Butler and Gi-en-gwah-toh, at mid-
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.
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
t - 1 -,
r-- .
MU ' - 'S? Jit. ..

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