The Treaty Table" at Forty Fort.

Site of the Fort.

Visit to the Monument.

Inscription upon it.

tion, and close by is the residence of one of Mrs. Myers's family, in whose possession I found the treaty table, pictured in the last chapter. The venerable owner was not there, but I afterward saw her at the house of her son, near Kingston. A cottage and its garden occupy the bank of the river where the trembling families at Forty Fort stood and listened to the noise of the battle; and from that point is a charming river view, bounded on the northwest by the lofty range of the Shawnee Mountains, through which the Susquehanna makes its way into the valley.

From Forty Fort we rode up to the monument, which is situated in a field a few rods east of the main road, near the pleasant little village of Troy, five and a half miles from Wilkesbarre. It is constructed of hewn blocks of granite, quarried in the neighborhood, is sixty two and a half feet in height, and stands upon the spot where the dead were buried in the autumn succeeding the battle.' On two marble tablets are engraved the names of those who fell, so far as could be ascertained, and also of those who were in the battle and survived. Another marble tablet contains an inscription, written by Edward Mallory, Esq. This monument, like many others proposed to be erected to the memory of Revolutionary men or events, was tardily conceived and more tardily executed. It remained unfinished nearly forty years after the first movements were made toward raising money for the purpose. As early as 1809, Mr. Minor, the historian of the valley, wrote several essays intended to awaken public attention to the duty of erecting a monument, and in 1810 Charles F. Wells, Esq., wrote a stirring ode, concluding with the patriotic interrogation,

"O, when shall rise, with chisel'd head,

The tall stone o'er their burial-place,
Where the winds may sigh for the gallant dead,
And the dry grass rustle around its base ?"

WYOMING MONUMENT

1 Professor Silliman visited many of the Revolutionary grounds about twenty years ago. In his Journal, vol. xviii., p. 310, in describing his visit to Wyoming, he says that a Mr. Perrin, one of those who assisted in the burial of the dead, went over the ground with him, and assured him that, owing to the intense heat and dryness of the air, the bodies were shriveled, dry, and quite inoffensive.

The following is the inscription upon the monument:

Near this spot was fought,

On the afternoon of Friday, the third day of July, 1778,
THE BATTLE OF WYOMING,

In which a small band of patriot Americans,
Chiefly the undisciplined, the youthful, and the aged,
Spared, by inefficiency, from the distant ranks of the republic,
Led by Colonel Zebulon Butler and Colonel Nathan Denison
With a courage that deserved success,

Boldly met and bravely fought

A combined British, Tory, and Indian force
Of thrice their number.

Numerical superiority alone gave success to the invader,
And wide-spread havoc, desolation, and ruin

Marked his savage and bloody footsteps through the valley.
THIS MONUMENT,

Commemorative of these events,

And of the actors in them,

Has been erected

Over the bones of the slain,

By their descendants and others, who gratefully appreciate
The services and sacrifices of their patriot ancestors.

Efforts to erect the Wyoming Monument.

Success of the Ladies.

Incidents of the Battle.

The Inman Family. These appeals caused meetings to be held and resolutions to be adopted, but little more substantial was done until 1839, when a committee from Wyoming repaired to Hartford, tc solicit pecuniary aid from the Legislature of Connecticut. The committee set forth the claims of the Wyoming people upon Connecticut, in consideration of past allegiance and services. A report was made, proposing a grant of three thousand dollars, but no further action was taken during that session. In 1841 another petition was presented, and so ably was the matter conducted that the lower branch of the Legislature voted the appropriation asked for, by a large majority. The Senate did not concur, and another failure was the consequence. The ladies of Wyoming, doubtless feeling the truth of Dr. Clarke's assertion, that "in all benevolent or patriotic enterprises the services of one woman are equal to those of seven men and a half," resolved that the monument should be erected. They formed a "Luzerne Monumental Association," solicited donations, held fairs, and by their energy obtained the necessary funds and erected a monument, commemorative alike of patriotic deeds and of female influence. There is a world of philosophy (which solicitors of subscriptions would do well to observe) in the saying of Judge Halliburton's clock peddler, "The straight road to the pockets of the men is through the hearts of the women."

From the monument northward to the site of Wintermoot's Fort, a mile and a half, the road passes over the battle-ground; but tillage has so changed the whole scene, that nothing remains as token or landmark of the fight, except the ancient river bank, and the tangled morass toward the mountains, through which the Indians made their way and fell upon Colonel Denison's rear. The place was pointed out to me, upon the road side, where, tradition says, one of the Wyoming men, somewhat intoxicated, lagged behind and fell asleep, when the little band marched to the attack of the invaders. When the retreat became general,

and Colonel Zebulon Butler saw no other means of safety but flight, he put spurs to his horse. A swift-footed settler, hotly pursued by savages, caught the tail of Colonel Butler's horse as he passed by, and, with the tenacity of the witch that fastened upon the tail of Tam O'Shanter's mare, held on until he was far beyond danger. As they passed the spot where the inebriate had just awaked, perfectly sober, the man at the tail shouted to him to shoot the pursuing savage. He did so, and the Indian fell dead in the road. Near the same spot Rufus Both had discharged their pieces, and the savage was chasing with tomahawk and spear. Richard Inman, one of five brothers who were in the battle, shot the Indian with his rifle, who fell dead within a few feet of his intended victim." Passing over the battle-ground, we visited the site of Wintermoot's Fort, a view of which is given on page 351, and, going down on the ancient bank of the Susquehanna, we came to Queen Esther's Rock, noticed and described on page 357. There is a scow ferry near, by

Bennet was pursued by an Indian.

which we crossed to the eastern side of the river, along whose margin, skirted with lofty trees, we had a delightful ride to the ravine opposite Monocasy Island. Here the road departs from the river bank, and passes among fertile intervales between that point and Wilkesbarre. The wheat harvests were garnered, but the corn-fields and orchards were laden with the treas

The most active ladies in the association were descendants of those who suffered at the time of the invasion. The names of the officers of the society are as follows: Mrs. Chester Butler, President; Mrs. G M. Hollenback and Mrs. E. Carey, Vice-presidents; Mrs. J. Butler, Mrs. Nicholson, Mrs. Hollenback, Mrs. Lewis, Mrs. Ross, Mrs. Conyngham, Mrs. Beaumont, Mrs. Drake, Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Carey, Executive Committee; Miss Emily Cist, Treasurer; Miss Gertrude Butler, Secretary; Mrs. Donley, Mrs. L. Butler, Corresponding Committee.

2 The Inman family were terrible sufferers. Five brothers went to the field of battle. Two others (for the father had seven sons) would have gone forth, but they had no arms. Two were killed on the field, two escaped without injury, and the fifth, plunging into the waters under some willows on the river shore while heated by the exertions of the battle and the flight, took such a cold that in a few weeks he was in his grave. The remainder of the family fled with the rest of the settlement. In the fall they ventured to return, and put in some winter grain. A surviving son, a lad of nineteen years, while in the field, heard, as he supposed. some wild turkeys in the woods. He went after them, shots were heard, but the boy never came back. In the spring his body was found. He had been murdered and scalped by the Indians. Thus four sons of Elijah Inman perished within a few months. One of the sons, Colonel Edward Inman, is still living, I believe, upon a fine farm a few miles below Wilkesbarre.

Mr. Slocum and his Family History.

Residence and Grave of Colonel Zebulon Butler.

Abduction of his Sister.

ures of the season, their abundance betokening the extreme fertility of the soil. the homestead of Colonel Butler, near which,

"On the margin of yon orchard hill,

Are marks where time-worn battlements have been,
And in the tall grass traces linger still

Of arrowy frieze and wedged ravelin."

We passed

Near the entrance to the village we came to the cemetery where repose many of the patriot dead of Wyoming. There rest the remains of Colonel Butler and his wife. The rude slab that first marked the bed of the hero had been removed, and in its place a neat white marble stone is laid, bearing the following inscription: "In memory of COLONEL ZEBULON BUTLER, of the Revolutionary army, who died July 28th, 1795, in the 64th year of his age; and also in memory of Mrs. Phœbe H. Butler, his wife, who died January 19th, 1837, in the 82d year of her age."

It was late in the day when I reached my lodgings, and, wearied by the rambles of the morning, resolved to pass the remainder of the afternoon with the Hazleton Travelers. Their conversation was exclusively of those who acted and suffered at the time of the massacre, and I listened with intense interest to the recitals of the "knowing one." I would gladly give the details here, if my space would allow, for they furnish one of the most interesting of those chapters in our Revolutionary history, showing the terrible cost at which our liberties were purchased. Mr. Minor has made the record, and to it the reader is referred. I passed the evening with the venerable Joseph Slocum, whose family was among the suf ferers in the Wyoming Valley. He related to me all the particulars of the capture and final discovery of his sister Frances, and other incidents connected with the sufferings of his family. His father was a Quaker, and was distinguished for his kindness to the Indians. He remained unharmed at the time of the invasion, and, while the torch was applied to the dwellings of others, his was left untouched. But his son Giles was in the battle. This doubtless excited the ire of the Indians, and they resolved on vengeance. Late in autumn they were seen prowling about the house, which was situated about one hundred rods from the Wilkesbarre Fort. A neighbor named Kingsley had been made a prisoner, and his wife and two sons had a welcome home in Mr. Slocum's family. One morning the two boys were grinding a knife near the house, when a rifle-shot and a shriek brought Mrs. Slocum to the door. An Indian was scalping the eldest boy, a lad of fifteen, with the knife he had been grinding. The savage then went into the house, and caught up a little son of Mrs. Slocum. "See!" exclaimed the frightened mother, "he can do thee no good; he is lame." The Indian released the boy, took up her little daughter Frances, aged five years, gently in his arms, and, seizing the younger Kingsley, hastened to the mountTwo Indians who were with him carried off a black girl, about seventeen years old. Mr. Slocum's little daughter, aged nine years, caught up her brother Joseph (my informant), two and a half years old, and fled in safety to the fort, where an alarm was given, but the savages were beyond successful pursuit.

ains.

November 2, 1778.

December 16.

About six weeks afterward Mr. Slocum and his father-in-law, Ira Trip, were shot and scalped by some Indians while foddering cattle near the house. Again the savages escaped with their horrid trophies. Mrs. Slocum, bereft of father, husband, and child, and stripped of all possessions but the house that sheltered her, could not leave the valley, for nine helpless children were yet in her household. She trusted in the God of Elijah, and, if she was not fed by the ravens, she was spared by the vultures. She mourned not for the dead, for they were at rest; but little Frances, her lost darling, where was she? The lamp of hope kept on burning, but years rolled by, and no tidings of the little one came. When peace returned, and friendly intercourse with Canada was established, two of the little captive's brothers started in search of her. They traversed the wilderness to Niagara, offering rewards for her discovery, but all in vain. They returned to Wyoming, convinced that the child was dead. But the mother's heart was still the shrine of hope,

Mrs. Slocum's Presentiments.

A Foundling.

Disappointment.

Singular Discovery of the "lost Sister." and she felt assured that Frances was not in the grave. Her soul appeared to commune with that of her child, and she often said, "I know Frances is living." At length the mother's heart was cheered; a woman (for many years had now passed, and Frances, if living, must be a full-grown woman) was found among the Indians, answering the description of the lost one. She only remembered being carried away from the Susquehanna. Mrs. Slocum took her home and cherished her with a mother's tenderness. Yet the mysterious link of sympathy which binds the maternal spirit to its offspring was unfelt, and the bereaved mother was bereaved still. "It may be Frances, but it does not seem so. Yet the woman shall be ever welcome," said Mrs. Slocum. The foundling also felt no filial yearnings, and, both becoming convinced that no consanguinity existed, the orphan returned to her Indian friends. From time to time the hope of the mother would be revived, and journeys were made to distant Indian settlements in search of the lost sister, but in vain. The mother went down into the grave mourning," and little Frances was almost forgotten. Her brothers had become aged men, and their grandchildren were playing upon the very spot whence she had been taken.

In the summer of 1837, fifty-nine years after her capture, intelligence of Frances was received. Colonel Ewing, an Indian agent and trader, in a letter from Logansport, Indiana, to the editor of the Lancaster Intelligencer,' gave such information that all doubts respecting her identity were removed, and Joseph Slocum, with the sister who carried him to the fort, and yet survived, immediately journeyed to Ohio, where they were joined by their younger brother Isaac. They proceeded to Logansport, where they found Mr. Ewing, and ascertained that the woman spoken of by him lived about twelve miles from the village. She was immediately sent for, and toward evening the next day she came into the town, riding a spirited young horse, accompanied by her two daughters, dressed in full Indian costume, and the husband of one of them. An interpreter was procured (for she could not speak or understand English), and she listened seriously to what her brothers had to say. She answered but little, and at sunset departed for her home, promising to return the next morning. The brothers and sister were quite sure that it was indeed Frances, though in her face nothing but Indian lineaments were seen, her color alone revealing her origin.

True to her appointment, she appeared the following morning, accompanied as before. Mr. Joseph Slocum then mentioned a mark of recognition, which his mother had said would be a sure test. While playing one day with a hammer in a blacksmith's shop, Joseph, then a child two and a half years old, gave Frances a blow upon the middle finger of the left hand, which crushed the bone and deprived the finger of its nail. This test Mr. Slocum had withheld until others should fail. When he mentioned it, the aged woman was greatly agitated, and, while tears filled the furrows of her face, she held out the wounded finger. There was no longer a doubt, and a scene of great interest ensued. Her affections for her

1 This letter was dated January 20th, 1835, a year and a half previous, and gave the following account: There is now living near this place, among the Miami tribe of Indians, an aged white woman, who, a few days ago, told me that she was taken away from her father's house, on or near the Susquehanna River, when she was very young. She says her father's name was Slocum; that he was a Quaker, and wore a largebrimmed hat; that he lived about half a mile from a town where there was a fort. She has two daughters living. Her husband is dead. She is old and feeble, and thinks she shall not live long. These considerations induced her to give the present history of herself, which she never would before, fearing her kindred would come and force her away. She has lived long and happily as an Indian, is very respectable and wealthy, sober and honest. Her name is without reproach." The cause of the delay in the publication of the letter, and of its final appearance and effect, was not a little singular. Mr. Ewing sent it to the postmaster at Lancaster, with a request that he would have it published in a Pennsylvania paper. The postmaster, not acquainted with the writer, concluded that it was a hoax, and cast the letter among other papers, where it remained a year and a half. One day his wife, while engaged in arranging the office, saw the letter, and, having her feelings very much interested, sent it to the editor of the Intelligencer. It so happened that the issue of his paper in which the letter was published contained an important temperance document, and a large number of extra copies were printed for general distribution. One of these was sent to a gen tleman in Wyoming, who, having heard the story of the "lost sister," and knowing Mr. Joseph Slocum, put the paper into his hands; and thus, by a series of providential circumstances, a clew to Frances was discovered.

Interview between the "lost Sister" and her white Kindred. Her Narrative. Her Condition. Children and Grandchildren kindred, that had slumbered half a century, were aroused, and she made earnest inquiries after her father, mother, brothers, and sisters. Her full heart-full with the cherished secrets of her history-was opened, and the story of her life freely given. She said the sav

ages (who were Delawares), after taking her to a rocky cave in the mountains, departed for the Indian country. The first night was the unhappiest of her life. She was kindly treated, being carried tenderly in their arms when she was weary. She was adopted in an Indian family, and brought up as their daughter. For years she led a roving life, and loved it. She was taught the use of the bow and arrow, and became expert in all the employments of savage existence. When she was grown to womanhood both her Indian parents died, and she soon afterward married a young chief of the nation, and removed to the Ohio country. She was treated with more respect than the Indian women generally; and so happy was she in her domestic relations, that the chance of being discovered and compelled to return among the whites was the greatest evil that she feared, for she had been taught that they were the implacable enemies of the Indians, whom she loved. Her husband died, and, her people having joined the Miamies, she went with them and married one of that tribe. The last husband was also dead, and she had been a widow many years Children and grandchildren were around her, and her life was passing pleasantly away. When she concluded the narrative, she lifted her right hand in a solemn manner, and said, "All this is as true as that there is a Great Spirit in the heavens !" She had entirely forgotten her native language, and was a pagan. To her Christ and the Christian's Sabbath

were unknown.

On the day after the second interview, the brothers and sister, with the interpreter, rode out to her dwelling. It was a well-built log house, in the midst of cultivation. A large herd of cattle and sixty horses were grazing in the pastures. Every thing betokened plenty and comfort, for she was wealthy, when her wants and her means were compared. Her annuity from government, which she received as one of the Miami tribe, had been saved, and she had about one thousand dollars in specie. Her white friends passed several days very agreeably with her; and subsequently her brother Joseph, with his daughter, the wife of

This portrait I copied from a painting of life size in the possession of her brother, Mr. Joseph Slocum, of Wilkesbarre. It was painted for him by an artist named Winter, residing at Logansport. Her underdress is scarlet, and the mantle with the large sleeve is black cloth. The Indians gave her the name of Ma-con-a-qua, a Young Bear. The names of her children and grandchildren are as follows: Eldest daughter, Kich-ke-ne-che-quah, Cut Finger; youngest daughter, O-saw-she-quah, Yellow Leaf. Grandchildren: Kip-pe-no-quah, Corn Tassel; Wap-pa-no-se-a, Blue Corn; Kim-on-sa-quah, Young Panther

A A