Thrilling Adventures By Land And Sea — General Jackson and Weatherford; Cruise of the Saldanha and Talbot; A Carib's Revenge; Massacre of Fort Mimms; The Freshet
GEN.
JACKSON AND WEATHERFORD.
After the battle of Tallapoosa, General Jackson returned with his victorious army to Fort Williams; but, determined to give his enemy no opportunity of retrieving the misfortune that had befallen him, he recommenced operations immediately afterward.
On the 7th of April, 1814, he again set out for Tallapoosa, with the view of forming a junction with the Georgia troops under Colonel Milton, and completing the subjugation of the country.
On the 14th of that month, the union of the two armies was effected, and both bodies moved to a place called the Hickory Ground, where, it was expected, the last final stand would be made by the Indians, or terms of submission would be agreed on.
The principal chiefs of the different tribes had assembled here, and, on the approach of the army, sent a deputation to treat for peace.
Among them was Weatherford, celebrated equally for his talents and cruelty, who had directed the massacre at Fort Mimms.
It had been the intention of General Jackson, to inflict a signal punishment upon him, if ever in his power.
Struck, however, with the bold and nervous eloquence of this fearless savage, and persuaded of the sincerity of his wishes for peace, he dismissed him without injury.
Some of the speeches of this warrior have been preserved, and exhibit a beautiful specimen of the melancholy but manly tone of a savage hero, lamenting the misfortunes of his race.
Addressing General Jackson, he said, "I am in your power--do with me as you please.
I am a soldier.
I have done the white people all the harm I could; I have fought them, and fought them bravely.
There was a time when I had a choice, and could have answered you: I have none now,--even hope is ended.
Once I could animate my warriors; but I can not animate the dead.
My warriors can no longer hear my voice; their bones are at Talladega, Tallushatchee, Emuckfaw, and Tohopeka.
While there was a chance of success, I never left my post, nor supplicated peace.
But my people are gone; and I now ask it for my nation and myself."
He shortly afterward became the instrument of restoring peace, which was concluded by the total submission of the Indians.
They agreed to retire in the rear of the army, and occupy the country to the east of the Coosa; while a line of American posts was established from Tennessee and Georgia, to the Alabama, and the power and resources of these tribes were thus effectually destroyed.
CRUISE OF THE SALDANHA AND TALBOT.
At midnight of Saturday, the 30th of November, 1811, with a fair wind and a smooth sea, we weighed from our station, in company with the Saldanha frigate, of thirty-eight guns, Captain Packenham, with a crew of three hundred men, on a cruise, as was intended, of twenty days--the Saldanha taking a westerly course, while we stood in the opposite direction.
We had scarcely got out of the lock and cleared the heads, however, when we plunged at once into all the miseries of a gale of wind blowing from the west.
During the three following days, it continued to increase in violence, when the islands of Coll and Tiree became visible to us.
As the wind had now chopped round more to the north, and continued unabated in violence, the danger of getting involved among the numerous small islands and rugged headlands, on the northwest coast of Inverness-shire, became evident.
It was therefore deemed expedient to wear the ship round, and make a port with all expedition.
With this view, and favored by the wind, a course was shaped for Lochswilly, and away we scudded under close-reefed foresail and main-topsail, followed by a tremendous sea, which threatened every moment to overwhelm us, and accompanied by piercing showers of hail, and a gale which blew with incredible fury.
The same course was steered until next day about noon, when land was seen on the lee-bow.
The weather being thick, some time elapsed before it could be distinctly made out, and it was then ascertained to be the island of North Arran, on the coast of Donegal, westward of Lochswilly.
The ship was therefore hauled up some points, and we yet entertained hopes of reaching an anchorage before nightfall, when the weather gradually thickened, and the sea, now that we were upon the wind, broke over us in all directions.
Its violence was such, that in a few minutes several of our ports were stove in, at which the water poured in in great abundance, until it was actually breast high on the lee-side of the main deck.
Fortunately, but little got below, and the ship was relieved by taking in the foresail.
But a dreadful addition was now made to the precariousness of our situation, by the cry of "land a-head!"
which was seen from the forecastle, and must have been very near.
Not a moment was now lost in wearing the ship round on the other tack, and making what little sail could be carried, to weather the land we had already passed.
This soon proved, however, to be a forlorn prospect, for it was found that we should run our distance by ten o'clock.
All the horrors of shipwreck now stared us in the face, aggravated tenfold by the darkness of the night, and the tremendous force of the wind, which now blew a hurricane.
Mountains are insignificant when speaking of the sea that kept pace with it; its violence was awful beyond description, and it frequently broke over all the poor little ship, that shivered and groaned, but behaved admirably.
The force of the sea may be guessed from the fact of the sheet-anchor, nearly a ton and a half in weight, being actually lifted on board, to say nothing of the forechain-plates' board broken, both gangways torn away, quarter-galleries stove in, &c. In short, on getting into port, the vessel was found to be loosened through all her frame, and leaking at every seam.
As far as depended on her good qualities, however, I felt assured at the time, we were safe, for I had seen enough of the Talbot to be convinced we were in one of the finest sea-boats that ever swam.
But what could all the skill of the ship-builder avail in a situation like ours?
With a night full fifteen hours long before us, and knowing that we were fast driving on the land, anxiety and dread were on every face, and every mind felt the terrors of uncertainty and suspense.
At length, about twelve o'clock, the dreadful truth was disclosed to us!
Judge of my sensation when I saw the frowning rocks of Arran, scarcely half a mile distant on our lee-bow.
To our inexpressible relief, and not less to our surprise, we fairly weathered all, and were congratulating each other on our escape, when, on looking forward, I imagined I saw breakers at no great distance on our lee; and this suspicion was soon confirmed, when the moon, which shone at intervals, suddenly broke out from behind a cloud, and presented to us a most terrific spectacle.
At not more than a quarter of a mile's distance on our lee-beam, appeared a range of tremendous breakers, among which it seemed as if every sea would throw us.
Their height, it may be guessed, was prodigious, when they could be clearly distinguished from the foaming waters of the surrounded ocean.
It was a scene seldom to be witnessed, and never forgotten!
"Lord have mercy upon us!"
was now on the lip of every one--destruction seemed inevitable.
Captain Swaine, whose coolness I have never seen surpassed, issued his orders clearly and collectedly, when it was proposed, as a last resource, to drop the anchors, cut away the masts, and trust to the chance of riding out the gale.
This scheme was actually determined on, and every thing was in readiness, but happily was deferred until an experiment was tried aloft.
In addition to the close-reefed main-topsail and foresail, the fore-topsail, and trysail were now set, and the result was almost magical.
With a few plunges, we cleared not only the reef, but a huge rock upon which I could with ease have tossed a biscuit, and in a few minutes we were inexpressibly rejoiced to see both far astern.
We had now miraculously escaped all but certain destruction a second time, but much was yet to be feared.
We had still to pass Cape Jeller, and the moments dragged on in gloomy apprehension and anxious suspense.
The ship carried sail most wonderfully, and we continued to go along at the rate of seven knots, shipping very heavy seas, and laboring much--all with much solicitude looking out for daylight.
The dawn at length appeared, and to our great joy we saw the land several miles astern, having passed the Cape and many other hidden dangers during the darkness.
Matters, on the morning of the 5th, assumed a very different aspect from that which we had experienced for the last two days; the wind gradually subsided, and, with it the sea, and a favorable breeze now springing up, we were enabled to make a good offing.
Fortunately, no accident of consequence occurred, although several of our people were severely bruised by falls.
Poor fellows!
they certainly suffered enough; not a dry stitch, not a dry hammock have they had since we sailed.
Happily, however, their misfortunes are soon forgot in a dry shirt and a can of grog.
The most melancholy part of the narrative is still to be told.
On coming up to our anchorage, we observed an unusual degree of curiosity and bustle in the fort; crowds of people were congregated on both sides, running to and fro, examining us through spyglasses; in short, an extraordinary commotion was apparent.
The meaning of all this was but too soon made known to us by a boat coming alongside, from which we learned that the unfortunate Saldanha had gone to pieces, and every man perished!
Our own destruction had likewise been reckoned inevitable, from the time of the discovery of the unhappy fate of our consort, five days beforehand; and hence the astonishment at our unexpected return.
From all that could be learned concerning the dreadful catastrophe, I am inclined to believe that the Saldanha had been driven on the rocks about the time our doom appeared so certain in another quarter.
Her lights were seen by the signal-tower at nine o'clock of that fearful Wednesday night, December 4th, after which it is supposed she went ashore on the rocks at a small bay called Ballymastaker, almost at the entrance of Lochswilly harbor.
Next morning the beach was strewed with fragments of the wreck, and upward of two hundred of the bodies of the unfortunate sufferers were washed ashore.
One man--and one only--out of the three hundred, was ascertained to have come ashore alive, but almost in a state of insensibility.
Unhappily, there was no person present to administer to his wants judiciously, and, upon craving something to drink, about half a pint of whiskey was given him by the people, which almost instantly killed him.
Poor Packenham's body was recognized amid the others, and like these, stripped quite naked by the inhuman wretches, who flocked to the wreck as to a blessing!
It is even suspected that he came on shore alive, but was stripped and left to perish.
Nothing could equal the audacity of the plunderers, although a party of the Lanark militia was doing duty around the wreck.
But this is an ungracious and revolting subject, which no one of proper feeling would wish to dwell upon.
Still less am I inclined to describe the heart-rending scene at Buncrana, where the widows of many of the sufferers are residing.
The surgeon's wife, a native of Halifax, has never spoken since the dreadful tidings arrived.
Consolation is inadmissible, and no one has yet ventured to offer it.
A CARIB'S REVENGE.
In a work recently published in London, by Captain Millman, are to be found some of the most thrilling scenes, from life in the tropics, it has ever been our fortune to meet with.
The following account of a Carib's revenge on a sea captain, named Jack Diver, on one of the narrow mountain paths of Guadaloupe, is exceedingly graphic and forcible: While he was making up his mind, a dark figure had stolen unperceived close behind him, with a small basket in his hand of split reeds, out of which came a low buzzing, murmuring sound.
He lay down quietly across the path, at the point of the first angle of the elbow of the mountain spar, not many feet from the hind legs of the horse.
Jack Diver with a scowling look, turned his horse round with some difficulty.
It plunged and reared slightly, but went on.
Occupied with retaining his seat, the master of the transport scarcely perceived the figure lying in the path.
He could not see who it was, for the face of the man was toward the ground.
But the horse saw it at once.
The animal, accustomed to mountain roads from its birth, had often stepped over both men and animals which are sometimes forced in the narrowest parts to lie down to let the heavier and stronger pass, in that highly dangerous and disagreeable method, lifted his feet cautiously, one by one, so as not to tread on the prostrate figure.
As the horse was above him, the man lifted with one hand the lid of the basket, and a swarm of wasps flew suddenly out, buzzing and humming fiercely, and in a moment they began to settle on the moving object.
The horse commenced switching his tail to drive them away, pricking up his ears, and snorting with terror.
The man on the path lay quite still until they had thus moved on a few yards, and then he raised his head a little, and watched them with his keen black eyes.
The wasps, driven off for a moment, became only the more irritated, and returned with vigor and wonderful pertinacity to the attack,--beginning to sting the poor animal furiously in all the tender parts.
They assailed the wretched master in his turn, darting their venomed barbs into his face and hands, and driving him nearly frantic.
The horse plunged furiously, and Jack Diver, losing his stirrups and his presence of mind together, twisted his hands into the horse's mane, to keep his seat, letting the reins fall on his neck.
At last, with a rear and a bound into the air, the maddened animal darted off at a gallop;
but the faster he went, the closer stuck the persevering wasps.
Jack Diver shut his eyes, screaming with fear and pain.
Then the Carib chief rose up, and again the hawk-like scream echoed along the valley.
The turn is to be made--can the horse recover himself?
Yes, maddened as he is, he sees the danger instinctively.
His speed slackens--he throws himself on his haunches, with his fore feet on the very brink of the precipice.
One more chance!
The blind, infatuated man remains on his back.
Again the horse feels the stings of his deadly persecutors; again he plunges forward, striving to turn quickly round the corner.
Round, and he is in comparative safety.
On a sudden, from behind a buttress of projecting rock, there start across the path three dusky forms, flinging their hands wildly in the air.
Then was heard that rare and awful sound, the shriek of a horse in the fear of a certain and coming death; when swerving one side, he lost his footing on the slippery shelf, and struggling madly, but unsuccessfully, to recover it, he fell over and over--down--down--a thousand feet down!
From the sailor's lips there came no cry.
[Illustration: GEN. COFFEE'S ATTACK ON THE INDIANS.
] MASSACRE OF FORT MIMMS.
On the 30th of August, 1813, Fort Mimms, which contained one hundred and fifty men, under the command of Major Beasely, besides a number of women and children, was surprised by a party of Indians.
The houses were set on fire, and those who escaped the flames fell victims to the tomahawk.
Neither age nor sex was spared; and the most horrible cruelties, of which the imagination can conceive, were perpetrated.
Out of the three hundred persons which the fort contained, only seventeen escaped to carry the dreadful intelligence to the neighboring stations.
This sanguinary and unprovoked massacre excited universal horror, and the desire of revenge.
The state of Tennessee immediately took active measures for punishing the aggressors.
General Jackson was ordered to draft two thousand of the militia and volunteers of his division; and General Coffee was directed to proceed with five hundred mounted men to the frontier of the state.
The former, having collected a part of his force, joined General Coffee on the 12th of October, at Ditto's landing, on the Tennessee.
They then marched to the Ten Islands, in the same river.
A few days afterward, General Coffee was detached with nine hundred men to attack a body of the enemy, posted at Tallushatchee.
He arrived early in the morning within a short distance of it, and, dividing his force into two columns, completely surrounded it.
The Indians, for a long time, made a desperate resistance, and did all that was possible for men to do who were in their situation.
But they were finally overpowered, with the loss of one hundred an eighty-six men.
THE FRESHET.
The freshet at Bangor, Me.
, in the spring of 1846, is thus described in "Forest Life and Forest Trees:" The first injury to the city was from the breaking away of a small section of the jam, which came down and pressed against the ice on our banks.
By this, twenty houses in one immediate neighborhood, on the west bank of the river alone, were at once inundated, but without loss of life.
This occurred in the daytime, and presented a scene of magnificent interest.
The effect of this small concussion upon the ice near the city was terrific.
The water rose instantly to such a height as to sweep the buildings and lumber from the ends of the wharves, and to throw up the ice in huge sheets and pyramids.
This shock was resisted by the great covered bridge on the Penobscot, which is about one thousand feet in length, and this gave time to save much property But meanwhile another auxiliary to the fearful work had been preparing, by the breaking up of the ice in the Kenduskeag river.
This river flows through the heart of the city, dividing it into two equal portions.
The whole flat, on the margin of the river, is covered with stores and public buildings, and is the place of merchandise for the city.
The Kenduskeag runs nearly at right angles with the Penobscot, at the point where they unite.
The Penobscot skirts the city on the eastern side, and on the banks of this river are the principal wharves for the deposit of lumber.
I must mention another circumstance to give you a just idea of our situation.
There is a narrow spot in the river, about a mile below the city, at High Head, in which is a shoal, and from which the greatest danger of a jam always arises, and it was this that caused the principal inundation.
The next incident occurred at midnight, when the bells were rung to announce the giving way of the ice.
It was a fearful sound and scene.
The streets were thronged with men, women, and children, who rushed abroad to witness the approach of the icy avalanche.
At length it came rushing on with a power that a thousand locomotives in a body could not vie with; but it was vailed from the eye by the darkness of a hazy night, and the ear only could trace its progress by the sounds of crashing buildings, lumber, and whatever it encountered in its pathway, except the glimpses that could be caught of it by the light of hundreds of torches and lanterns that threw their glare upon the misty atmosphere.
The jam passed on, and a portion of it pressed through the weakest portion of the great bridge, and thus, joining the ice below the bridge, pressed it down to the narrows at High Head.
The destruction, meanwhile, was in progress on the Kenduskeag, which poured down its tributary ice, sweeping mills, bridges, shops, and other buildings, with masses of logs and lumber, to add to the common wreck.
At that moment, the anxiety and suspense were fearful whether the jam would force its way through the narrows, or there stop and pour back a flood of waters upon the city; for it was from the rise of the water consequent upon such a jam that the great destruction was to be apprehended.
But the suspense was soon over.
A cry was heard from the dense mass of citizens who crowded the streets on the flat, "The river is flowing back!"
and so sudden was the revulsion, that it required the utmost speed to escape the rising waters.
It seemed but a moment before the entire flat was deluged; and many men did not escape from their stores before the water was up to their waists.
Had you witnessed the scene, occurring as it did in the midst of a dark and hazy night, and had you heard the rushing of the waters, and the crash of the ruins, and seen the multitudes retreating in a mass from the returning flood, illumined only by the glare of torches and lanterns, and listened to the shouts and cries that escaped from them to give the alarm to those beyond, you would not be surprised at my being reminded of the host of Pharaoh as they fled and sent up their cry from the Red Sea, as it returned upon them in its strength.
"The closing scene of this dreadful disaster occurred on Sunday evening, beginning at about seven o'clock.
The alarm was again rung through the streets that the jam had given way.
The citizens again rushed abroad to witness what they knew must be one of the most sublime and awful scenes of nature, and also to learn the full extent of their calamity.
Few, however, were able to catch a sight of the breaking up of the jam, which, for magnitude, it is certain, has not occurred on this river for more than one hundred years.
The whole river was like a boiling cauldron, with masses of ice upheaved as by a volcano.
But soon the darkness shrouded the scene in part.
The ear, however, could hear the roaring of the waters and the crash of buildings, bridges, and lumber, and the eye could trace the mammoth ice-jam of four miles long, which passed on majestically, but with lightning rapidity, bearing the contents of both rivers on its bosom, The noble covered bridge of the Penobscot, two bridges of the Kenduskeag, and the two long ranges of saw-mills, besides other mills, houses, shops, logs, and lumber enough to build up a considerable village.
The new market floated over the lower bridge across the Kenduskeag, a part of which remains, and, most happily, landed at a point of the wharves, where it sunk, and formed the nucleus of a sort of boom, which stopped the masses of floating lumber in the Kenduskeag, and protected thousands of dollars' worth of lumber on the wharves below."
