greatly surprised when I discovered our flag flying from the highest branches of a tree, at a short distance. I need not observe I was welcomed by our company who had begun to look on me as lost to them. I warned them of their danger, but the next day we took a straggling Indian, who informed us that the Indians as soon as they missed me, called a council of war, wherein after much deliberation, they had postponed their expedition three weeks. These Indians evidently saw the approaching hour, when the Long Knife would dispossess them of their native habitations; and anxiously concerned for futurity, determined utterly to extirpate the whites out of Kentucky. We were not intimidated by their movements, but frequently gave them proofs of our courage. Success is the soul and crown of all enterprises. We were now many hundred miles from our families in the howling wilderness. I believe few would have equally enjoyed the happiness we experienced. I often observed to my companions, "You see now how little nature requires to be satisfied. Felicity, the companion of content, is rather found in our own breasts than in the enjoyment of external things: and I firmly believe it requires but little philosophy to make a man happy in whatsoever state he is. This consists in a full resignation to the will of Providence; and a resigned soul finds pleasure in a path strewed with thorns." It was now the latter end of August, and we were fast approaching the Aleghany Mountains. The season was fine; nature seemed here in her youth. We pitched our camp below for repose, and for the accommodation of our cattle, having a cow with calf, that could not go any further. The first thing I did was to examine the country round, and particularly the accessible parts of the mountains. On these excursions I went well armed. I once gained the summit of a commanding ridge, and, looking round with astonishing delight, beheld the ample plains, the beauteous tracts below. On the other hand, I surveyed the famous river Ohio that rolled in silent dignity, marking the western boundary of Kentucky with inconceiv able grandeur. At a vast distance I beheld the mountains lift their venerable brows, and penetrate the clouds. All things were still. I kindled a fire near a fountain of sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a buck, which a few hours before I had killed. The sullen shades of night soon overspread the whole hemisphere, and the earth seemed to gasp after the hovering moisture. My roving excursion this day had fatigued my body and diverted my imagination. I laid me down to sleep, and I awoke not until the sun had chased away the night. I continued this tour, and in a few days explored a considerable part of the country, each day equally pleased as the first. I returned again to my old camp, which was not disturbed in my absence. I did not confine my lodging to it, but often reposed in thick cane-brakes, to avoid the importunities of my fellow travellers, and indulge in meditation, and the pleasures of imagination. In this situation I was constantly exposed to danger and death. How unhappy such a situation for a man tormented with fear, which is vain if no danger comes, and if it does, only augments the pain. It was my happiness to be destitute of this perplexity, otherwise my life had been truly miserable. Our security was short of duration, for on the tenth day we were surprised early in the morning by the warwhoop of some scores of savages, with hundreds in their rear. Some of these spoke English and French, and pretended they came with friendly terms for our advantage, saying they came not to destroy us or make captives, but if nine of us would come out and treat with them, they would immediately withdraw their forces from our camp, and return home peaceably. This sounded grateful in our ears; and we agreed to the proposal. We held the treaty within sixty yards of the garrison, on

purpose to divert them from a breach of honour, as we could not avoid suspicions of the savages. In this situation the articles were formally agreed to, and signed; and the Indians toid us it was customary with them on such occasions, for two Indians to shake hands with every white man in the treaty, aз an evidence of entire friendship. We agreed to this also, but were soon convinced their policy was to take us prisoners. They immediately grappled us; but, although surrounded by hundreds of savages, we extricated ourselves from them, and escaped all safe into the camp, except one that was wounded, through a heavy fire from their army. They immediately attacked us on every side, and a constant heavy fire ensued between us, for the space of seven hours and a half. It was now a critical time with us. We were but a small number compared with our enemies, a powerful army terrifically armed, though without discipline, whose appearance proclaimed inevitable death, fearfully painted, and marking their footsteps with desolation. Death was preferable to captivity; and if taken by storm, we must inevitably be devoted to destruction. In this situation we concluded to maintain our situation if possible. We immediately proceeded to collect what we could of our horses, and other cattle, and bring them together, to prevent them falling into the enemy's possession. Nothing remained but to make a formidable stand. We had repulsed them a little, and supposed they run short of ball, for towards evening they retired back, making a dreadful noise. We did not think it prudent to follow them, and the next morning we could not discover any traces of them. Incredible as this part of my narrative may appear, but I aver it a fact, we collected near fifty pound weight of ball, lodged in the bark and wood of trees, and logs, with which we had fortified our temporary residence. Our loss was very great in killed and wounded according to our number, five we had shot, two more died the next day, but five other wounded men recovered, by the assistance of John Filson our surgeon. Our first care was to fortify our little encampment, as well as our circumstances would admit, as another visit from the savages might have proved fatal. At the end of three weeks we resumed our march, not thinking it prudent to stay any longer, but got over the mountains by a pass, evidently cut by the Indians with fire; the trees being burnt, and the rocks split by that contrivance. As soon as we descended into the valley on the other side, we found ourselves in a deserted Indian town. It seemed to have been but lately left, as dried fish and skins were everywhere to be seen, and in a small enclosure some maze was growing. We left this place as we found it, and proceeded without delay four days, slowly walking till we came to Cumberland Mountain, six hundred and forty-nine miles from Philadelphia. Here we thought of reposing ourselves a few days, but on the second after our arrival, we were discovered by a foraging party belonging to the English station, on Cumberland river. This meeting was as agreeable to us as to them, for they had suffered much from the treachery and cruel attacks of the savages, who were every where alarmed at our people settling among them. As soon as the commander, lieutenant James Harrod, became acquainted with our arrival, he sent a party to bring us up to the station, which we found very healthy and well conditioned, but too insignificant by its small number, to resist the force that the Indians might have brought against it, had unanimity animated their councils. The Indians we found kept them in constant alarm, hardly a day passed without some hostility or treachery, and their numbers augmented to a serious force.

I shall not trouble the reader with a tedious account of a long march I had to take from New York afterwards to Oswego, to join my regiment: suffice it,

therefore, that I arrived there about the middle of July; but, in my march thither with some recruits, we joined Colonel Broadstreet at Albany, and on the 6th of May, at the Great Carroing-place, had a skirmish with the French and Indians, wherein several were killed and wounded on both sides; of the latter I made one receiving a shot through my left hand, which entirely disabled my third and fourth fingers; and having no hospital, nor any conveniences for the sick there, I was, after having my hand dressed in a wretched manner, sent with the next batteaux to Albany to get it cured. The preparation and armament for this campaign were great, but rendered fruitless by the mismanagement of some at home, and our disgrace was soon known all over the world! In short, reader, we were taken by the French, and I was one of a very few who escaped the general massacre; Shirley's and Pepperil's regiments being destroyed in cold blood by the French and savages. I mean not to point out any thing that followed as the immediate judgment of heaven, or intended as an atonement for the slaughter that was made on this occasion, but justice demands the truth. Monsieur Montcalm, the French general officer, fell soon after on the plains of Quebec; and very few of those tribes of Indians that shared in the victory lived to return home. The small pox soon became contaminous among them, and those who escaped mostly died of a contagious fever; with which, when they were first attacked, they took to the water, the chillness of which destroyed them by hundreds. The next day after the battle they began to remove us in boats to Montreal. We suffered much on our way; and I cannot help observing, that, during the time we were on the river St. Laurence, it appeared very easy and feasible for Commodore Bradely, had he thought proper to have destroyed all the enemy's boats, and have prevented them from ever landing their cannon within forty miles of the fort. But he knew his own reasons for omitting this piece of service best. Our party arrived at Montreal, in Canada, on the 28th. We were that night secured in the fort, as were the rest as they came in. The French used various means to win some of our troops over to their interest, or at least to do their work in the fields, which many refused, amongst whom was myself; who were then conducted on board a ship, and sent to Quebec ; where, on arriving, the 5th of September, we were lodged in a gaol, and kept for the space of one month. During this our captivity, many of our men, rather than lie in a prison, went out to work and assist the French in getting in their harvest; they having then scarce any people left in that country but old men, women, and children, so that the corn was continually falling into the stubble, for want of hands to reap it; but those who did go out, in two or three days chose confinement again rather than liberty on such terms, being almost starved, having nothing in the country to live on but dry bread; whereas we in the prison were each of us allowed two pounds of bread and half a pound of meat a day, and otherwise treated with a good deal of humanity. Eighteen soldiers were all the guard they had to place over us, who, being greatly fatigued with hard duty, and dreading our rising on them (which had we had any arms we might easily have done, and ravaged the country round, as it was then entirely defenceless ;) and the town's people themselves fearing the consequences of having such a number of English petitioned the governor to have us sent away. After a passage of six weeks, we at last, to our great joy, arrived at Plymouth, the 6th of November, 1761. But these our troubles and hardships were not, as we expected, put to a period for some time; scruples arising to the commissaries and admiral about taking us on shore, as there was no cartel agreed on between the French and the English, we were confined

on board until the determination of the Lords of the Admiralty should be known; lying there in a miserable condition seven or eight days, before we received orders to disembark, which, when we were permitted to do, being ordered from thence, in different parties, to Totness, Kingsbridge, Newton, Bushel, Newton Abbot in Devonshire; I was happy in being quartered at Kingsbridge, where I met with such civility and entertainment as I had for a long time been a stranger to. In about four months we were again ordered to Plymouth Dock to be draughted into other regiments: where, on being inspected, I was, on account of the wound I had received on my hand, discharged as incapable of further service; and was allowed the sum of six shillings to carry me home to Aberdeen; but, finding this sum insufficient to subsist me half the way, I was obliged to make my application to the honourable gentlemen of the city of York, who, on considering my necessity and reviewing my manuscript on the transactions of the Indians, herein before mentioned, thought proper to have it printed for my own benefit, which they cheerfully subscribed unto. And after disposing of several of my books, I finally returned home, where I settled in a public line of business, and have not since had the least inclination to ramble again.

Such is the relation of Peter Williamson, which, as he remarks, he published through the kindness of some gentlemen of York. It appears, however, that neither the strange vicissitudes of his own fortune, chequered with uncommon calamities, nor the good intention of his narrative, could protect him from the resentment of some merchants of Aberdeen, where he went in quest of his relations; because, in the introduction to this narrative, he had noticed the manner in which he had been illegally kidnapped on board a ship and sold for a slave. For that publication he was imprisoned, and three hundred and fifty copies of his book (the only means he had of obtaining a subsistance) were taken from him, and his enlargement only granted him on his signing a paper disclaiming two or three pages of his book. However as he soon after found a few of his relatives, he got the attestations of some, and the affidavits of others, proving he was the person taken away, as mentioned in the narrative. The interdict was reversed by the Lords of Sessions on his appeal, and the magistracy of one of the most opulent and respectable boroughs in Scotland, were fined in a considerable sum on that account. To these observations it is only necessary to add, that, for several years, he kept a very respectable coffee-room in Edinburgh, where he also introduced the useful plan of the Penny-Post, and died there in 1797. He possessed a large collection of Indian curiosities, which were sold for a considerable sum soon after his death.

DYING BRAVERY OF MOLUC, EMPEROR OF MOROCCO. When Don Sebastian, King of Portugal, had invaded his territories, in order to dethrone him, and set his crown upon the head of his nephew, Moluc was wearing away with a distemper, which he himself knew was incurable. However he prepared for the reception of so formidable an enemy-he was indeed so far spent with his sickness, that he did not expect to live out the whole day, when the last decisive battle was given; but knowing the fatal consequences that would happen to his children and people, in case he should die before he put an end to that war, he commanded his officers that if he died during the engagement, they should conceal his death from the army-that they should ride up to the litter in which his corpse was carried, under pretence of

receiving orders from him as usual. Before they began, he was carried through all the ranks of his army in an open litter, as they stood drawn up in array, encouraging them to fight valiantly in defence of their religion and country. Finding afterwards the battle to go against him, though he was very near in his last agonies, he threw himself out of his litter, rallied his army, and led them on to the charge; which afterwards ended in a complete victory on the side of the Moors. He had no sooner brought his men to the engagement, than finding himself utterly spent, he was again replaced in his litter; where, laying his finger to his mouth to enjoin secrecy to his officers who stood about him, he died a few moments after, in that posture.

EXTRAORDINARY PRESERVATION OF A BRITISH SEAMAN.

The following real and affecting incident, which occurred during the war, is related in the fourth vol. of " Brenton's Naval History."

:

The Spartan frigate, of thirty-eight guns, commanded by captain (now Sir J.) Brenton, met with a severe loss on the 14th of May, off Nice: she had all day been chasing a polacre ship, and at sunset both were becalmed, at the distance of about five miles from each other; the vessel appeared to be an unarmed merchant ship. The boats of the Spartan with the two senior lieutenants, Weir and Williams, and seventy of the best men pulled along side in two divisions, and attempted to board her on the bow and quarter with the usual determination and valour of British seamen ; but the vessel was defended by a numerous gallant crew, with boarding nottings and every other means of resistance. The first discharge from their great guns and musketry laid sixtythree of our brave fellows low, the first and second lieutenants and twenty-six men being killed or mortally wounded; seven men only remained unhurt. The few remaining hands conducted the boat back to the ship. The narrow escape of one of the men was very remarkable. James Bodie, the coxswain of the barge, was missing. The deceased men were all laid out upon the main deck the wife of Bodie, a beautiful young woman, flew with a lantern from one to the other, in search of her husband, but in vain: all the survivors declared that he had perished-they saw him wounded, and fall between the ship and the boat. The poor woman became delirious, and got into the barge on the booms, and taking the place lately occupied by Bodie, could with difficulty be moved from it. A few days, with the soothing kindness of the officers and crew, produced a calm but settled grief. At Malta a subscription of eighty guineas was made for her, and she was sent to her parents in Ireland. Some weeks elapsed when the Spartan spoke a neutral vessel from Nice, and learnt that a polacre had arrived there, after a severe action with the boats of a frigate; that she had beaten them off, and that when they had left her, a wounded Englishman was discovered holding by the rudder chains; he was instantly taken on board, and after been cured of his wounds, sent off to Verdun. Captain Brenton, concluding this could be no other than his coxswain, wrote to his friends at that depôt, and the fact turned out to be as he had supposed. Mrs. Bodie was made acquainted with the miraculous escape of her husband, who remained a prisoner four years. He was at length restored to his family, and now enjoys a birth on board the Royal Charlotte yacht, with his old captain; his wife is with him, and both are highly and deservedly respected.