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Incident at Pluckemin.

Somerville. Incidents by the Way.

Arrival at Easton.

Departure from Middlebrook.

affair. He said that several boys had possession of a small swivel, and, in firing it, one of them, while loading, had his hand blown off by a premature discharge of the piece. The boy was the son of a widow, and Washington, hearing of the circumstance, sent his mother two guineas.

I left Middlebrook at noon, and within half an hour was at dinner in Somerville, five or six miles distant, whence, at one o'clock, I departed in a stage-coach for Easton. Within the coach were seven grown persons, three children about ten years old, and two babies of a respectable size and sound lungs; while on the outside were four passengers and the driver, and an indefinite quantity of baggage. The roads were excessively dusty. The rain that commenced falling gently soon after leaving Somerville relieved us of that annoyance, but produced a greater the necessity of having the windows of the coach closed, to keep out the drippings of the increasing storm. A wheezing old gentleman in green goggles insisted upon keeping the window open near him, to save him from suffocation; while a shadowy, middle-aged lady, upon the next seat, wrapped in a cloak, as earnestly declared that it should. be closed to save her from an ague that had threatened her for a week. The matter appeared to be very properly a casus belli, as prime ministers say; but, unlike the action of prime ministers in general, the controversy was compromised by mutual concessions, the crooked roads over the rough hills presenting a basis for an amicable treaty of peace. It was agreed that, when the course of the road brought the lady to the windward, the window was to be closed, and at other times the gentleman was to be accommodated with fresh air. The country through which we passed is beautifully diversified with lofty hills and deep ravines, forming numerous water courses, whose irrigating streams fertilize the broad valleys which are found occasionally imbosomed among the less fertile, but cultivated mountains. Of these, the Musconetcong,' through which flows a small river of the same euphonious name, dividing the counties of Hunterdon and Warren, is said to be one of the most charmWe crossed the Musconetcong at the pretty little village of Bloomsbury, at twilight, but the gloaming and the rain deprived us of the pleasure of a view of the valley and its thriving town. We were now within six miles of the Delaware, and as the darkness deepened the storm increased; and when, at seven o'clock, we crossed the river, and reined up at the hotel in Easton, we seemed to alight in the very court of Jupiter Pluvius.

Easton is upon the right bank of the Delaware, at its confluence with the Lehigh River, thirty-seven miles northwest from Somerville. Arriving there after dark, and departing the next morning before daylight, I had no opportunity to view it. It is said to be a place of much business, and inhabited by a well-educated, social, and highly moral population, and is in the midst of natural scenery singularly picturesque. It has but little Revolutionary history, and that relates chiefly to contests with the Indians. Here the division of the army

5th. America represented as a rising empire. Prospect of a fertile country, harbors and rivers covered with ships, new canals opening, cities arising amid woods, splendid sun emerging from a bright horizon. Motto,

"New worlds are still emerging from the deep,

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The old descending, in their turns to rise."

6th. A grand illuminated representation of LOUIS THE SIXTEENTH, the encourager of letters, the supporter of the rights of humanity, the ally and friend of the American people. 7th. The center arch, THE FATHERS IN CONGRESS. Motto, Nil desperandum reipublicæ." 8th. The American philosopher and embassador extracting lightning from the clouds. 9th. The battle near Saratoga, 7th of October, 1777. 10th. The Convention of Saratoga. 11th. A representation of the sea fight, off Ushant, between Count d'Orvilliers and Admiral Keppel. 12th. Warren, Montgomery, Mercer, Wooster, Nash, and a crowd of heroes who have fallen in the American contest, in Elysium, receiving the thanks and praises of Brutus, Cato, and those spirits who in all ages have gloriously struggled against tyrants and tyranny. Motto, "Those who shed their blood in such a cause shall live and reign forever." 13th represented Peace, with all her train of blessings. Her right hand displaying an olive branch; at her feet lay the honors of harvest; the background was filled with flourishing cities; ports crowded with ships; and other emblems of an extensive empire and unrestrained commerce.

When the fire-works were finished, the company concluded the celebration by a splendid ball, which was opened by Washington, whose partner was the lady of General Knox.

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This is an Indian word, signifying a rapid-running stream."

Sullivan's Expedition.

Indian Council.

Whitefield and Brainerd.

of Sullivan, under his immediate command, rendezvoused previous to its flying and desolating campaign against the Six Nations in central New York in 1779, and hither came the poor fugitives from the blackened Valley of Wyoming, after the terrible massacre and burning there in 1778. It has history antecedent to this, but in a measure irrelevant to our subject. Here, in 1758, the chiefs of the Indian tribes, the Delawares, Shawnees, Miamis, Nanticokes, Mohicans, Conoys, Monseys, and all of the Six Nations, assembled in grand council with the Governors of Pennsylvania and New Jersey, Sir William Johnson, and other distinguished men; and the eloquence and good sense of the great Indian diplomatist, Teedyuscung, were here displayed on several occasions. Here, too, before the cabin of the white man was built upon the Delaware above Trenton, the surrounding hills echoed the voices of the eminent Whitefield and Brainerd,' as they proclaimed the Gospel of Peace to the heathen; and here the good Moravians sang their hymns and held their love-feasts in the wigwams of the Indians.

1 GEORGE WHITEFIELD was born in Gloucester, England, December 16th, 1714. After making some progress in learning, he was obliged to assist his mother, who kept an inn. At the age of eighteen he entered Oxford, where he became acquainted with the Wesleys (John and Charles), the founders of the Methodists. He joined these eminent Christians, took orders, and was ordained by the bishop in June, 1736. Mr. John Wesley was then in Georgia, and by his persuasion Whitefield embarked for America. He arrived at Savannah in May, 1738, and returned to England in September following. Bishop Benson ordained him priest in January, 1739. He made several voyages to America, and traveled through nearly all the colonies. He went to the Bermudas in 1748. In 1769 he made his seventh and last voyage to America. After preaching in different parts of the country, he died suddenly at Newburyport, Massachusetts, September 30th, 1770, aged fifty-five. His powers of eloquence were wonderful, and his ministry was exceedingly fruitful. His voice was powerful. Dr. Franklin estimated that thirty thousand people might hear him distinctly when preaching in the open air. Of him Cowper wrote,

"He loved the world that hated him; the tear
That dropped upon his Bible was sincere;
Assailed by scandal and the tongue of strife,
His only answer was a blameless life;
And he that forged and he that threw the dart,
Had each a brother's interest in his heart.
Paul's love of Christ and steadiness unbribed
Were copied close in him, and well transcribed
He followed Paul, his zeal a kindred flame,
His apostolic charity the same;
Like him, crossed cheerfully tempestuous seas,
Forsaking country, kindred, friends, and ease;
Like him he labored, and like him content
To bear it, suffer shame where'er he went.
Blush, Calumny! and write upon his tomb,
If honest eulogy can spare thee room,

The deep repentance of thy thousand lies,

;

Which, aimed at him, have pierced th' offended skies,
And say, blot out my sin, confessed, deplored,
Against thine image in thy saint, oh Lord!"

DAVID BRAINERD was born at Haddam, Connecticut, April 20th, 1718. He entered Yale College in 1739; but, being expelled in 1742, on account of some indiscreet remarks respecting one of the tutors, he never obtained his degree. He immediately commenced the study of divinity. Toward the close of the year he was licensed to preach, and immediately afterward was appointed a missionary to the Indians. His first efforts were made among the Stockbridge Indians, about fifteen miles from Kinderhook, New York. There he lodged upon straw, and his food was the simple fare of the savages. After the Stockbridge Indians agreed to remove to Stockbridge, and place themselves under the instruction of Mr. Sergeant, Brainerd went to the Indians upon the Delaware. There he labored for a while, and then visited the Indians at Crossweeksung, or Crosswicks, in New Jersey, where he was very successful. He worked an entire reform in the lives of the savages at that place. In the summer of 1746, Mr. Brainerd visited the Indians upon the Susquehanna. The next spring, finding his health giving way, he traveled in New England. In July he halted at Northampton, and there, in the family of Jonathan Edwards, he passed the remaining weeks of his life. He died October 9th, 1747, aged twenty-nine years. His exertions in the Christian cause were of short continuance, but they were intense, incessant, and effectual.

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LEFT Easton for the Valley of Wyoming, sixty miles distant, at three o'clock in the morning. The storm was over, and the broken clouds, flitting upon a cool wind from the northwest, permitted a few gleams of moonlight to stray down to earth. Although there were but three passengers in the coach (two ladies and an infant), I took a seat with the driver, for there were promises of a bright morning and magnificent scenery. The coachman was a good-natured Pennsylvania Dutchman, rather taciturn, and such an adept in his profession that his practiced ear detected the absence of a shoe from the foot of one of the "leaders" when three miles from Easton. A blacksmith by the road side was aroused, the shoe was replaced, and within an hour we had ascended the fertile slopes of the Delaware and Lehigh, to Nazareth, a Moravian village about half way between Easton and the Wind-gap in the Blue Mountains. The day had not yet dawned, yet the snatches of moonlight enabled me to observe the uniform and neat appearance of the houses in the village.' We were now high among the hills, whence the mists from the rivers and valleys had rolled up when the storm ceased at midnight, and I was glad to take shelter from the chilling vapor within the coach. The seats were spacious, and, having one in exclusive possession, I made a couch of it, using the carpet bag of one of the ladies for a pillow, and slept soundly for an hour. When I awoke, the morning light was

1 Nazareth is seven miles northwest of Easton. It contains a church, a sisters' house, a large and flourishing seminary for boys, and the usual dead-house and cemetery peculiar to the sect. The place was named, and, it may be said, founded, by the Rev. George Whitefield, the eloquent cosmopolite preacher. He had labored in conjunction with the Moravians in Georgia. When, about 1740, they refused to take up arms for the governor of the province, and left Georgia for the more peaceful domain of William Penn, Whitefield accompanied them. He began to erect a large building "in the Forks of the Delaware" as a school for negro children, while the Moravians, under Bishop Nischman, purchased the site and founded the town of Bethlehem, about ten miles distant. Whitefield named his domain, or manor, Nazareth. He did not complete his building, but sold "the manor of Nazareth" to the Moravians, who finished the edifice. It is still standing, in the eastern border of the village. The Moravian Sisters of Bethlehem wrought an elegant banner, and presented it to Count Pulaski. A drawing of the banner, and the beautiful Consecration Hymn, written by Longfellow, will be found in another part of this work.

Y

Passage through the Wind-gap

The great Walk.

Roscommon Tavern.

An Office-hunter.

abroad, and we were within half a mile of the Wind-gap. I again mounted the driver's box, for all around us Nature was displaying her attractions in the plenitude of her magnificence and beauty. Before us, and in close proximity, were the Blue Mountains, their summits curtained in a white fog that was rising toward the loftier clouds. Behind us, far down into the valleys and intervales, orchards, corn-fields, forests, and meadows were spread out like a carpet of mellow tints, and on every side the gentle breeze was shaking the rain-drops from the boughs in diamond showers, glittering in the first rays of the morning sun. While the bleating of sheep and the bellowing of cattle reminded us of cultivated fields behind us, the whirring of the pheasant, the drumming of the partridge, and the whistling of the quail among the rocks and lofty evergreens around betokened the uncultivated wilderness.

The Wind-gap, unlike the far-famed Water-gap' in the same cluster of mountains, is a deep depression of the summit of the range, is quite level on both sides of the road for a considerable distance, and exhibits none of the majestic precipices of the latter. The earth is covered with masses of angular rocks, among which shoot up cedar and other trees and shrubs, chiefly of the coniferæ order; but the road, by industry, is made quite smooth. The hills rise on each side of the Gap to an altitude of eight hundred feet, clothed and crowned with trees. It was through this pass in the mountains that two expert walkers crossed to a spur of the Pocono when measuring the extent of a district of country northwest of the Delaware, for the proprietors of Pennsylvania, in 1737. The Indians had agreed, for a certain consideration, to sell a tract of land included within prescribed points on the river, and extending back as far as a man could "walk in a day and a half." The proprietors immediately advertised for the most expert walkers in the province, and they performed a journey, in the day and a half, of eighty-six miles! The Indians were greatly dissatisfied, for they had no idea that such a distance could be accomplished, and it included some of their finest lands. The walkers ran a considerable portion of the way. They ate as they traveled, and never stopped from sunrise until sunset. One old Indian said, bitterly, when complaining of the cheat, "No sit down to smoke-no shoot a squirrel, but lun, lun, lun, all day long." The Indians, supposing the walk would end not far from the Wind-gap, had collected there in great numbers; but, to their astonishment, the walkers reached that point on the evening of the first day.

The turnpike road through the Wind-gap, and across the valleys and mountains, to Wilkesbarre, was made by Sullivan for the passage of his troops in 1779, when marching to join General Clinton on the Tioga. Before that time the pass was little more than a rôugh Indian war-path, and its obscurity made the hurried flight of the people from Wyoming over the solitary region more perplexing and dreadful than it would be now.

We descended from the Wind-gap, on the western side of the mountain, along a steep and winding road, skirting a precipice, crossed a beautiful mountain stream, and alighted at the Roscommon Tavern, among the hills, where we breakfasted at seven o'clock. At the table we were honored by the presence of one of the five candidates for the office of sheriff of Monroe county. He was out canvassing the district for votes, and a more earnest, intelligent, good-humored man I have seldom met. His strongest claim to the honors and emoluments of the office seemed to rest upon the fact that he was a representative of New England pedagogueism in the Wyoming Valley as early as "forty years ago;" had taught the "young ideas" of the fathers of three Wilkesbarre lawyers "how to shoot," and, therefore, he assumed to have an undisputed right to the privilege of hanging the inhabitants of a neighboring county. He accompanied us to the next tavern, the proprietor of which, a fat little man, though already bearing upon his shoulders the responsibilities of a postmaster, was another aspirant ambitiously wheezing for the office of sheriff. Both were too good-natured to be made rivals;

1 The Water-gap is the passage through the Kittatinny or Blue Mountains of the Delaware River, about three miles from Stroudsburg. This village is upon the Delaware, twenty-four miles above Easton, and was the first settlement which the fugitives from Wyoming reached when fleeing from the valley in 1778 There was a fort there, called Hamilton, during the French and Indian war, and near the eastern end of the village Fort Penn was built during the Revolution.

Ascent of the Pocono. The Mountain Scenery.

Solitude of the Region. A Soldier Coachman.

First View of Wyoming.

We left them com

they were only different candidates professing the same political faith. paring notes over a glass of whisky, and in the course of a few hours we had crossed fertile little valleys and parallel ranges of mountains, and begun the toilsome ascent of the famous Pocono. From base to summit, the distance, by the road, is about three miles, one third of which is a straight line up the mountain at an angle of thirty-five degrees. Then our way

was along the precipitous sides of the hills, from which we could look upon the tops of tall trees, hundreds of feet below. It was noon when we reached the level summit, two thousand feet above tide water; and there, three fourths of a mile from the eastern brow of the mountain, John Smith keeps a tavern, and furnished us with an excellent dinner.

The road upon the top of Pocono is perfectly level a distance of four miles; and all the way to the Wilkesbarre Mountains, twenty miles, there is but little variation in the altitude. On the left, near Smith's, is an elevation called the Knob, about two hundred feet above the general level, from the apex of which it is said the highest peaks of the Catskills, sixty miles distant, may be distinctly seen on a clear morning. All around is a perfect wilderness as far as the eye can reach, and so trifling are the variations from a level, that the country appears like a vast plain. The whole is covered with shrub oaks, from three to ten feet in height, from which rise lofty pines, cedars, and tamaracks, interspersed with a few birch and chestnut trees, and occasionally a mountain ash with its blazing berries. The shrub oaks, at a distance, appeared like the soft light green grass of a meadow, and groups of lofty evergreens dotted the expanse like orchards upon a prairie. Here and there a huge blasted pine, black and leafless, towered above the rest, a

'Stern dweller of the mountain! with its feet

Grasping the crag, and lifting to the sky
Its haughty crest!"

Vast cranberry marshes spread out upon this high, rolling table-land, and supply the surrounding settlements with an abundance of that excellent fruit. Indeed, the whole region is almost a continuous morass, and the road, a large portion of the way, is a causeway made of logs. Here the gray eagle wheels undisturbed, the bear makes his lair, and the wild deer roam in abundance. These, with the flocks of pheasants, and the numerous rabbits that burrow upon this wild warren, invite the adventurous huntsman, willing to " camp out" in the wilderness. No settlements enliven the way; and the cabins and saw-mills of lumbermen, where the road intersects the streams, are the only evidences of a resident population, except three or four places where a few acres have been redeemed from the poverty of nature. This wilderness extends more than a hundred miles between the Delaware and Susquehanna Rivers, and a death-like solitude broods over the region.

I kept my seat upon the driver's box all the way from the Wind-gap to Wilkesbarre, charmed by the romance of the scene, rendered still more wild and picturesque by the dark masses of cumulous clouds that overspread the heavens in the afternoon. The wind blew very cold from the northwest, and the driver assured me that, during the hottest weather in summer, the air is cool and bracing upon this lofty highway. Poor fellow, he was an emaciated, blue-lipped soldier, recently returned from the battle-fields of Mexico, where the vomito and ague had shattered a hitherto strong constitution, and opened his firm-knit system to the free entrance of diseases of every kind. He was at Vera Cruz and Cerro Gordo. He lay sick a whole summer at Perote, and now had resumed the whip with the feeble hope of regaining lost health.

We crossed the upper waters of the Lehigh at Stoddartsville, in the midst of the great lumber country, and reached the brow of the Wilkesbarre Mountains just before sunset. There a scene of rare grandeur and beauty was revealed, heightened by contrast with the rugged and forbidding aspect of the region we had just traversed. The heavy clouds, like a thick curtain, were lifted in the west to the apparent height of a celestial degree, and allowed the last rays of the evening sun to flood the deep valley below us with their golden light. The natural beauties of the vale, reposing in shadow, were for a moment brought

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