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*:>UM\S»S
(llrorixia) Mirror. ' j.
THE LAST OF THwPEQUODS—OR THE CHIEFTAIN’S (
w REVENGE. .
•T THi: AUTHOR OF “THE BANQUET OF NORWICH,” &C. &C. |
I
CHAPTER I. t
“ A brenth of *iibini*Moii »<’ breath.' not;
The sword llmt we’ve drawn »r will s-hcKthe not!
Its scabbard is left where <><>r nnirtt rs arc le.id,
And the vengeance of ages has whetted its blade." i <
CaMI'HCLL.
Amcnj the numeriMis Indian tribes, with which the settlements I <
•f Providence and Connecticut weio infested, the mnst formidable
war* the Narragansetts and Pequods. Foreseeing that their vxter- ' I
■nirration was accelerated solely by the increasing influx of Europeans, s
the Pequods applied to the Narragansetts, their ancient foe, apd i
urged upon them the necessity of uniting'for the expulsion of their ’
caantnon enemy. But the latter, perceiving in this a favorable op
portunity of weakening if not of totally destroying a powerful rival,
instead of accepting this apparently favorable proposition, imniedi-j
ately informed the Governor of the. hostile intentions of the Pequods, j
and entered at once into an alliance against them.
Mora exasperated by the tieacherv thus evinced, the Peqitnds
brought a thousand warriors into the Held, and hpmediately com
menced hostilities, by attacking Fort baybrook, the strong hold of I
the English. In this, however, they were defeated, and compelled [
to retire into a swamp at some utsiance, where alone they might feci I
•ecure from their many foes.
The Connecticut troops w ilh the Narragansetts, soon advanced
against the Pequods, who had by this tone fortified their position j
with palisades. More prudence was displayed in selecting their situ- '
•lion, than vigilance in gnm.sling it from surprise.
’Twas the hour of mid-night. All were hushed in sleep among j
the Pequods; all excepting a chief of determined courage, named I
Pequello. He, liv his well-known bravery, was as much feared bv [
the Europeans as respected by the Narragansetts. Os a stature re- !
markably tai’, and muscular, with defiance depicted on his countenance
—he appeared to be the more expressly fotmed by nature for the i
rank ho held. On his back swung the deadly tomahawk, and a bowand
quiver lav by bis side. With the watchful dogs, he was the only sen
tinel over this fierce band of warriors. Pequello silently caressed a
mastiff of unusual »izo that lay nt his feet. This animal, more saga
cious than the others, having been trained with the greatest tare by
his master, was abouf to show an instance of his faithful attachment. |
ft was evident to the chief, from the impatient bearing of the dog,
that danger was to be apprehended ; and in order to discover wheth- j
« Ims suspicions were well founded, he stooped, and placing his ear
to tbo ground, listened with the greatest anxiety. Pequello hastily
ariwng, motioned to tin'dog to lemain on the.spot, and ran himself to
wards xbe camp of his people. He speedily returned, accompanied by
another chief, whose loftv plume denoted his rank to belittle inferior to
that of ‘bi« cwwrpanion.' ißoth stooped for a moment to the ground
•nd listened, then suddenly springing up, they silently looked to
wards each other. The dista 'it howl of a deg was heard.
“’Tis the growl of the walc.'i dog,” said Pequello, and the Narra
fansatts are approaching.”
“So is it, Pequello,” return the other, “and our warriors must
be awakened.”
Pequello now returned toward l.’« mastiff, and gently patting him,
Jointed in the direction of the camp. The animal instantly caught
is master’s meanii g, and bounder.' off- In a lew moments, a num
ber of warriors apptoached in hat te towards the ciriels, to inquire
s»to the cause of alarm. Pequello iil tntly pointed toward* a deep
•norass before them, and at tire same time placed his finger upon his
ips in token of silence. But ere this hu d passed, the dogs began to '
bark furiously, and gradually to approach the encampment. Danger -
was now apparently near and anxiety wa s depicted on every face. j
The warriors hastened towards the camp, un 'l gave the general alarm ; i
all was now bustle and confusion among the tribe, in rn instant a ;
thousand fearless warriors were iu arms, prepared to repel the attack; j
while the fierce warwhoop from as many throat s , shouted defiance to J
he foe. Like defenders of the Roman capitc'l, Hfey had been sum
stoned bv aft instinctive guardian to defend then >s“lves, but they were
sot equally successful in vanquishing the invaders. A dreadful car
nage ensued. /Catering by two passages, which had been left un
guarded, the Europe ins directed their destructive ft.ro against this un
daunted band. If they came forth they rushed aga,n3t naked bayo
nets, and if they at tempted to leap the palisades, they' were driven
hack by a continual volley of bullets. Their tents were soon in
flames, ami many mi able to escape, perished therein, w.nlst otheis
recoiling from the dea, By weapons, rushed amidst the blaze, and thus .
•hared the fate of their comrades. j
The Massachusetts tro ops also joined tb<» invaders, and n> a short
\ timo after, the Pequods c ?ased I- be a nation. The prisoncis were i
as slave*. Though .'.oqrrelled to undergo the daily tod, their |
proutd spirits still remained still did they remember that I
they wrtws descended froiwX’® first na,ion of America.
The NarhfMMMftPtts uov victorious in their treachery, still were un- I
easy as long as reu wined; and it was not until they had |
persuaded themselves^ 11 tl* • ,a,ir '' wer ® *->itlier destroyed or
tubduod, that they euioyV all . v ' lik « a ot ’ security. Lit
tle did thev imagine. hoX’ pr ’ “ ’ nl ,h,! ~nc ,l,ev “? st dreaded ’ - vet
lived— yet breathed the samX air " i,h l,ie ,T 5 *! n wlio,n ,Ik ‘- v ’'j ll fear *
rd, though imagined dead-tIY en ß ofl,is ,ril ’ 9 - tlic vanquisher of J
.the great wtrriors of the Narra^ !,ns,: Us '
.. v I '”n V chief is laid.”
Aow low o* earth tl< drum’s Viik.il— .Ekcu, R. iii.
Th® way leading to the mansion oK‘ he Governor of Connecticut
was thought a long and labyrinthine ovcrshaded with trees ’
its paths turning to the right and left, o^ er .'' ,e c^,ster * n " foli-
nee had never permitted the sun to plav^C ts "? r l ' ie mellow
moon-beam to bend one flickering ray.' gl'iomv silence seemed
tor pervade every thing, not even interrupted 'he cheering chirp
•f the feathered tribo. Situated towards the > cxtl “•’•'ty of this ave
nu« was the residence of tlie Governor, whtV h> *'^ e 'hose ol,r
forefathers, who were continually exposed lrom ’he numer
ous tribes around, was so constructed as to be^k' ’’’“hie »ot only for
a habitation in time ®f peace, but a protection |^fck“’® e . 0 / ' var '
It was possibly two years, or more, since the IB* ’•rmilation. of the |
Pequods. It was late in the night, mid the intmW'e* °^’h c mansion
had long since closed their eyes in slqe'i. TkeWtv\' •*" e which we
bad jtist desciibed, was still as deathnot a
that occasioned by the rustling of the branches ot the t.’ecs as they
were tossed to and fro by the breeze. Froni/tliis thicket* ' )ow enter- .
ged a figure, but the darkness prevented v s teeing seen by .ai \v adven
turer whose way might have been through the avenue. *?'he night
was exceedingly dark and cloudy, save when the vivid IJ? btning,
shed at intervals a dazzling light through the depths of the fr,r vst.—
By one of these sudden flashes was seen the foint of an Ind/i u °f
very tall stature walking with his face towards the ground, as on n ab
sorbed in profound and melancholy reverie. Reaching the gate of
the garden, he reclined on it for some time, and then retraced h. s
way towards the sp t whence he had emerged. The approaching j
steps of a man were now heard—they were irregular and heavy, ant' j
the song which was sung by the intruder, denoted him a votary of
Bacchus. It was in the Indian tongue; and as it reached the quick
ear of the first personage, he receeded into an obscure part of the
avenue.
“ ’Tis one of the Narragansetts,” muttered be, “ the hatred of the
Great Spirit; I must arrest his steps before he reaches the bouse.—
With these words he stepped into the middle of the avenue, and pla
ced bis hand on the Narragansett.
“ Pale-face,” said the Narragansett, who was not in the least man
ner pleased at this sudden interruption. “1 am your red brother,
let me pass.”
You lie, cursed fool,” exclaimed the one thus addressed : “ you
He, yon are of the hated, cursed race of the Great Spirit,” and these
words were accompanied by a hoarse and suppressed laugh.
“ And who art thou, who would stop a chief of the Narragansetts
who art thou who heap curses on the Great Spirit of our tribe?” in
quired the Narraganselt, who by this time had become quite sober.
Bui the other slowly and distinctly rejdied, in a tone wherein was
exhibited bate and detestation :
“ 1 am Pequello, the last of the beloved of his tribe—the last of
the Iretraved warriors—the fust of the Pequods.”
The N arragansett shuddered as he beard this annunciation, but re- I
snaiaed silent, and the Pequod continued :
“Chief of the Narragansetts, why do you tremble and act as a
child; already hast thou been converted into a beast, by the strong
water of the pale-faces? Why do you not reply to Pequello, who
®sks you for his wife, his father, his tribe ?”
“ Warrior of the broken tribe, ” replied the dismayed chief, “ask
me not for diem—ask the pale-faces; the red men would have been
your friends. But the pale-faces destroyed your nation—their fire
made desolate your race, not our tomahawks.”
“ And you laughed at our misery ?”
“No, Pequello, we did not laugh; wo shed tears like children,
when we heard us the misfortunes of our brothers—we played to
our Great Spirit fur tl cm.”
“Enough, Narragansett—enough! When we applied to yon, to i
aid us against the pale-faces, the people who bad taken away our
lands; and who would have driven us out of our country—what was
your reply? Yas! Wlien we called our great cunocil—what did
your warriois reply? Yes! Wlien we agreed to drive the pale
face* from the land—what did yo say ? Yes! Whi nwe appointed
a time to attack them—did von not promise to meet usT’
“ We did.”
And how did you act ? Did yon join us as agreed upon ? No ! j
Did you send your warriors to our aid? No! Did you not betray,
to the pale-faces? Did you not scalp our warriors?”
“ No,” replied the Narraganselt, •• we struck none of your war- .
liars, out one of the broken tribe fell by our hands.
** You speak well and truly,” interrupted the Pequod, “ von struck
none cf our warrior*—and why ? Through fear you avoided our ,
tomahnwks. You struck but our wive* and children—those were j
your victiinc, yon did not hearken to their cries.”
Tho Narraganselt eyiayod to speak, but was again interrupted by j
the Pequod, who continued :
“ You struck them because they were weak and feeble ; you shun
ned jbe warriors of the Pequods, who wotdd have avenged them.
Now, Narraga/isntt, hated by the tribes, where ate my brothers and
friends!”
“ Gone to the Gieat Spirit.” j
Yes, they have ;;oue to his country ; they have gene to the Great
Spirit, where they live free from the power of the pale-faces, and i
have plenty of hunting ground ; for they were faithful to their word.
But you, Narragansett, who betrayed us, where do you expect to go? )
Not to the Great Spirit, lie hates sou and will drive you away !”
“ The Groat Spirit is good,” said the Narragansett.
“ But not to the murderers of women anil children. Now listen
to Pequello, who bids you prepare for death.”
“ Pequello, you would certainly not strike an unarmed chief.”
“ Did you sttike our women I Come, Narrngansett, sing your
death-song.”
“ Pequello, if you let me live, I will give you of the strong-water
of the pale-fares.”
The Pequod’s only reply was a smile. Th# Narragansett seeing
him thus determined, turned from the warrior and sung his death
song and as he finished, the tomahawk of the Pequotl was raised;
one moment more, ami the Narragansett was launched into eterity.
The instrument of death had done its oflice.
The Pequod returned into the thicket.
The following day the body was found, and brought before the
Natragansetts. On the breast of the corpse was cut a cross. The
chiefs looked fearfully at one another, and all shuddered as they mur
mured :
“ ’Tis the mark of the Pequod.”
CHAP. tit.
“And I the cuglo of my tribe.”
Campbell.
About a mile distant from the mansion of the Governor, there was
a large lock, which rose to a tremendous height, forming, in its al
most perpendicular ascent, a fearful precipice; its irregular sides
jutting out over a dark stream which meandered at base, half-hidden
by projecting rocks and overhanging banks. Far up the rugged
steep, where the eagles build his eyrie, and where till then no human
foot had tread, a cave was hidden among the crags.
At early dawn, on the mottling following the murder of the Nar
ragansett, an Indian might have been seen cautiously issuing forth
from this wild and perillous retreat. With a firm undaunted step,
he ascended to the very pinnacle of the awful precipice. Then cast-
■ ing abroad an inquiring look, as if to be assured that no one was in
: sight, he again descended; leaping from cliff to cliff, as if uncon
' scions of’ the danger to which he was exposed. Arrived at the mouth
[of the cave, he stooped and uttered a shrill whistle. The next mo
ment a dog of huge size came running towards the savage, and crouch-
: ed himself near his master’s feet.
Pequello, for it was he, returned the caresses of his faithful dog,
and descending, they disappeared in the deep forest.
Two hours had elapsed, when the chief returned, but he came not
back as he went. On his shoulder swung the body of a deer, and
in his arms he held a young Indian child. Ascending the rock to
some distance, until he reached a point which overlooked the chasm
below, he halted then suddenly extending his arm, held for a moment
the child over the yawning gulf; but the latter only smiled at the
warrior, and stretched towards him his little arms, as in play. The
Pequod could not resist the child’s caresses, and drawing it towards
his manly breast, proceeded in the direction of the cave, which lie
soon reached.
On his arriva), he kindled a fire; and in a short time a bright blaze
illumined the dark recesses of the rock. The chief then commenced
the preparation of his meal. At one side lay the dog, devouring a
piece of the animal’s flesh. Here and there were strewed broken
arrows, a tomahawk, and a bow, with other arms of the chief. A
stone, which answered for a seat, together with a box, constituted the
I remaining furniture of this gloomy abode. The Pequod approach
i ed the box, and raising the cover, drew forth a scalp, this be placed
i before the child,.who was amusing him-elf by playing with the bro
; ken arrows. The chief took another scalp, and placed it as before,
■ and continued to do the same until be had drawn eleven scalps.—
. Shutting the box he placed them upon it. Then turning to the infant
' near him, the chief exclaimed:
“ Infant ruler of the Narragansetts, where are my people?
The child looked up, smiled, and stretched out its little hands to
wards the wanior, but the latter turning away, a tear flowed down
his cheek, whilst he resumed :
“ Son of the great Narragansett you must die. The Pequod must
destroy thee, for the Great Spirit so ordains it—my annihilated tribe
calls tor revenge. Eleven of thy tribe have been destroyed, and the
twelfth must be an infant.”
He turned towards the fire, and took away the pot. On the dying
embers was rekindled a blaze, and selecting the scalps, one by one
they were thrown amidst the flames. Sometime passed before they
i were consumed, and whilst burning the chief remained gazing at the
l blackened scalps with anguish.
“Thus has the Pequod revenged the blood of his tribe, and the
; Great Spirit will soon receive him into his arms. “To-morrow,” he
| continued, “ to-morrow my revenge will be completed.”
He now proceeded to his meal, in company with the child. Here
I wo must leave them for the present.
CHAP. IV.
‘• My hoy ’ —my boy ’ —O thou art erone'.
Source of my hope and pleasure here!”
Augusta Mirror, Vol. i. No. xx.
Near the residence of the Governor stood the village of the Nar
ragansetts, comprising several wigwams; but one of which was larger
Hind more elevated than the others. This was occupied by “the
■ greater warrior” or his tribe, who had called together all the chiefs
of the Narragansetts on the morning that the corpse had been found
in the avenue.
The seats of the council room were one after another filled, in un
interrupted silence. The members all awaited the command of “ the
! great warrior,” who, when the places were occupied, addressed the
I cormcil in a clear and firm tone:
i Children of my tribe, and warriors of the Narragansetts, you all
know why you have been called .in council! Last night another of
our people was taken from us, which makes eleven within a few days
past tlis t have been found murdered ; all marked with the cross of
the Pequods. There is still another of the broken tribe alive, and
he must bi’ i’ent to his fathers. While he lives we are in danger ;he
fears us no.t. One by one our brave warriors have disappeared—
and their des’tlr remains unrevenged. Therefore, brave warriors, call
your tribe tog et her ; search every part of the mountain, every swamp,
and, drive the Pequod away like a dog.” And as the aged man
concluded he r.'-'s Mated himself amidst the approbation of the coun
cil.
A loud knock at the door now interrupted the council, and the
next moment a Narragansett rushed towards the old chief exclaim
ing :
“ Great warrior, .thy son is lost!”
“My boy ! —my buy 1” exclaimed the old man. “Speak quick
—you said my son, m_v infant son , for alas! all the rest are dead.”
“Aye, grleat chief, your son has been stolen; a chief has been
Seen flying with the ehilil towards the rock.”
At this information, a burst of indignation broke forth. No on»
i doubted but that it was tpe Pequod who had stolen the child; and
in a moment a numerous tra in awaited the signal for pursuit. Head
ed by the old warrior, they smarted for the rock, where they soon ar
riveiu-
Put wirat a scene presente d itself to the terrified father. On the
rocky [irecipi.ce stood the tall .form of the Pequod. There he was, in
Iris wa. r o'ress; his countenance.firm and determined. In his left hand
he held he child, whilst Iris right clutched the fatal tomahawk. It
was a sublime and awful sight to see the savage in this elevated and
fearful position. The infant seen.'t'd unconscious of its danger as it
looked up with a s mile on the swarthy features of the warrior.
“ Child.” said the’ Pequod, “your hour has arrived ; and the vul
tures of the air will eat thee, whilst ray spirit gazes upon thee from
above.”
It was at this peri nd that the Narragansetts reached the base of
the precipice, and prep 'ared to ascend.
“ Stop hated of the Great Spirit,” cried the Pequod, who per
ceived their movements, “or the child slierll be destroyed.”
The old warrior motic med to the ether chiefs to remain, and ad
vanced towards the Peqm >d. The latter bade him stop.
“ Pequello,” snid the o! d man, “ I am to thee as a lamb; return
me the bov, and the Great -Spirit will bless thee.”
The Pequod smiled at this’ address. The muscles of his face for
a moment quivered, and then .' lis countenance turned almost black in
hue. ' Suddenly he turned to tl.Narragansett and exclaimed:
“Old warrior, where are my | whom you butchered?
The Narragansett would ha ve > T lied . B’O Pequod, pointing to
heaven continued:
“They are calling for vengeance.
“ Pequod,” said the old man, “w. y ol * destroy a child—one
who never injured thee? Shall the chi ’ d atone for the acts of the
father ? No, Pequello, though you are a i ’ roe l man, you will not de
stroy a child.” ,
“ I will.”
“Then, thorr art not the warrior of the P ’^quods; thou art not
the protector of the innocent;” seeing th«t ffi»; onc d ,us addressed
heeded him not, he cosrrinwff: “If thniti wilt < 'Xchango our lives
lake mine, and let mv son live.”
The proposal seemed to strike the Pequod with a su dden determi
nation ; and as he meditated upon a double revenge,, he' inquired of
the old man:
“ Will you redeem iris life with your own!"
“ Willingly replied the Narragansett.
“ Then take the child.”
Ihe father approached for the purpose of insuring its safe!v, hut
wax in a moment grasped witbin the firm hold of the Pequod."
“ What would you do ?” cried the eld man, seaing the stratawei
nf Iris dreaded so
“ Kill the destroyer of my people,” w.v the stern' repfy.
“ Pequello, will you break your plighted word?”
“ Where are the proofs of your treachery but in the destruction of
riy people. Look towards yonder warriors, who are regarding the
Lmecr that surrounds their ‘ great warrior.’ Why do they not send
Jn i'r arrows at the Pequod?”
'1 lie warriors below fearfully viewed the Pequod and his victims,
without the power of rendering any possible assistance.
A picrcin* shriek now rent the air. The Pequod stood with the
aid warrior; the child was seen descending the abyss below.
! Th>’ war-whoop of the Narragansetts broke the awful silence, and
they prepared to ascend, bi t the Pequod, pointing to the old man,
i said :
“ Narragansetts, hated of the Great Spirit, prepare your death
| song, for your chief dies,” and with these words he precipitated the
warrior over the precipice.
The arrows of the Narragansetts now struck in everv direction
over the Pequod. The latter lifted up his arms, and cried :
“ Great Spirit of our tribe, I come t<> thee,” and leaped into the
abyss beneath.
Thus perished lite last of the Pequods. P. A. C.
Charleston, S. C.
From the New-York Mirror.
A LEGEND OF GRANADA.
BY HENRY STANHOPE LEE.
44 True revenge
la pniient hr the watchful alchymiflt,
Sagacious as the bloodhound on the scent,
•Secret ns death!”— Vclanco.
The last strongholds of Granada were yielding before the
well-directed assaults of the Castilian forces. One alter one
the defences of the Moors had been prostrated, till at last that
once haughty people had shut themselves up in the walls of the
cilidel, hopeless and inactive. But among them there was one
unconquerable spirit, whose relentless defiance of his Christian
enemies seemed to increase as his ability to cope with them di
minished. In all the sallies, which were made from the gates
of the besieged city, Almanzor distinguished himself by the fury
and intrepidity with which he spurred to the encounter. Where
ever the carnage was deadliest, there might he be seen, red
with slaughter, flashing through the smoke of the combat, more
like an invulnerable demon than a human being, whom steel
could wound and exertion could weary.
It was whispered, even among his own companions, that his
country’s wrongs and danger did not alone impel him to this
display of daring and inveterate hostility. At a time, when the
prospects of the Moors were less desperate, Almanzor, in a
successful incursion against one of the mountain fortresses of
the Christians, had seized and borne away Maria de Quexada,
a Spanish maiden of singular beauty and loveliness. However
unworthy may have been the designs by which he was origin
ally actuated in this deed of violence, yet the very influence of
the charms which tempted him soon changed his relation of a
tyrant to that of a slave. He .sued for the love of his captive
with humility and gentleness. A change seemed to come over
his rugged nature when in her presence; and, for a time, the
scorn with which she received his advances, elicited from him
no demonstration ol anger or rebuke. The fierce, camp-bred
warrior, for the first moment in his life, knew what it was to
love, and with him the passion absorbed every faculty of his
soul.
The patient forbearance with which he met the repulses of
Maria de Quexada, of course was not destined to continue for
ever. Finding that his persevering attentions, and his re
spectful attachment, awoke no corresponding emotion in the
heart of his captive, he began to assume a stern and menacing
demeanor. One evening as the maiden was about retiring to
rest in the small pavilion assigned to her in the Moorish camp,
the curtain was withdrawn, and Almanzor entered. The pre
cepts of the Koran had plainly been broken that day, for he
was insolent with wine, and there was in his manner none of
the martial dignity which usually distinguished him.
’ “Thy fears shrewdly interpret to thee my errand,” he said,
as he approached the shrinking and terrified maiden: “I have
borne too long with thy coyness, my pretty infidel; but 1 will
submit to it no longer.”
Had there been a single weapon of destruction within reach,
gladly would Maria have grasped it to defend her from the pol
lution of the Moslem’s touch, even though to do it she were
compelled to redden the steel with her own life-blood. But
Almanzor had been careful to deprive her of the jewelled dag
ger, which she had once aimed against his heart; and even the
. golden arrow, that was wont to adorn her black hair had been
' removed.
“ Flutter not, dove of Paradise,” he exclaimed—“l love
thee, and, by the Prophet, thou shalt be mine !”
“ Not living, miscreant!” exclaimed the high-spirited maiden,
and, seizing the small spice-lamp which burned at the foot of
her couch, she boldly applied it to the light drapery around
her. But before it could ignite, the clang of trumpets, the
shrieks of surprised men, the shouts of combatants, burst in
one mingled clamor, like the voice of an earthquake, upon the
ear.
“To arms! the Spaniard!” cried Almanzor, dashing from
the pavilion. v
“ Holy virgin ! it may be a rescue !” said Maria, throwing
off the loose flowing robe, from the foot of which the eager
flame was rising, and threatening in another moment to scathe
with fire her delicate limbs and beautiful proportions. But it
caught the light muslin festoons about the pavilion, and the
maiden had scarcely time to throw a light garment about her
person, and a mantilla over her shoulders, before she was driven
by a furious volume of smoke and flame into the open air. The
first object she saw was a cavalier on horseback, riding impet
uously toward the scene of the conflagration, while, on another
•ide, a party of Moors and Christians were engaged in a san
guinary and tumultuous encounter. The steed was not checked
in his impetuous career, until the maiden felt the breath of his
nostrils upon her forehead, and then the rider drew up so sud
denly as to bring the docile animal almost upon his haunches.
It was Juan d’Aguilar, the affianced lover of Maria de
Quexada.
The Spaniards, after a slight skirmish, retired to their own
quarters, and Almanzor was left wild with rage nnd anguish at
the loss of the maiden, togain whose affections he would have
considered no sacrifice too great. In all his subsequent en
counters, lie fought, as has already been mentioned, with an ex
asperation that no danger could allay or oppose. But the foe,
whom he chiefly sought to engage, among the young cavaliers
of the army of Ferdinand and Isabella, was Juan d’Aguilar;
but in this, circumstances did not chance to favor his wishes.
The Moors had retreated to their last rampart. There was
no hope for Granada. Almanzor in vain tried to rally a band
of heroes, with whom once more to brave the Christians. Des
pair was in the hearts ol all the Moslem garrison—famine and
sickness were in their looks. There was no hope for Granada.
It was a morning of sunshine and verdure. A detachment
of the Spanish army, under the command of Juan d’Aguilar,
lay encamped, a mile or two from the besieged city. Its min
arets and groves glittered dazzlingly before them in the clear
white atmosphere. In the rear rose the blue Alpuxarras,
limned in majeetic beauty against the horizon. The encamp
ment of Juan d’Aguilar was no unworthy feature in that scene
of beauty. His various tents were sumptuously ornamented
with the richest tapestry, and their pinnacles streamed with
pennons of every hue and device. The centra] pavilion, sup
ported by columns oflances, and shining in purple and crimson
silk, with golden trimmings and embroideries, was occupied bv
ladies, who had come to visit their husbands, their lovers, or
their kinsmen, now that all danger from the attacks of the
Moors was considered at an end. Maria de Quexada was
there, the gayest of the gay, with sc>ng and jest, her heart buoy
ant with hope, and her eyes flashing with delight. The lon
protracted war was fast drawing to an assured conclusion ; and
soon were to be celebrated the nuptials of the maiden with one
of the bravest and best of the young nobility of Spain. Juan
was constantly by her side, aqd his devotion frequently called
foi th the good-natured raillery of the ladies, who, perchance,
might not have been so enviably favored in their suitors. There
was music, and dancing, and feasting throughout the encqmn
ment, andl many were tempter) to exclaim. “ Oh that life were
all like this bfighf atp| jjeaptiful jnrprner day I’l
The cry of a distant seqiry tyas sqddeq'ly bqrpp mQut |j
to mouth until it reached lhe paps of jt?an. ft announced that
a deserter from the Moors brought intelligence of great impor
tance, which he desired to communicate to the commander.
“ Give orders for his admission to our presence, but first see
that he bears fto concealed weapon,” said Juan ; and he seated
himself in front ofhis pavilion, while around him gathered the
officers of his army, and at the back of his chair stood Maria de
Quexada, with the ladies ofher train.
The stranger entered with a quick, imperious step. He had
discarded the Moorish turban and costume, and stood forth
with his head bare; and a red mantle, more like a Roman town
than a cloak, wrapped around his vest of mail, and reaching be
low his knees. °
“ Holy virgin ! it is Almanzor,” gasped forth Maria, tremb
ling violently as she spoke.
“ There is no cause for alarm,” said Juan ; “he bears no
w eapon in his belt, and if he did, have I not my good sword to
encounter it?” Then, turning to the Moor, he said : “Tell
us, Almanzor, the purpose of thy visit. Bringest thou terms
of surrender ? Il so, thou mayest return; for, nothing but
unconditional submission will we accept.”
“ I come on no such errand,” replied Almanzor, in tones so
deep and sepulchral, that all who heard them were startled.—
“J have hccq discarded by my people as the iustigytor of their
misfortunes, and I have come here to abjure rnv nation and my
faith. I acknnwledijp myself your x nssal and a Christian.”
The sneer which the speaker threw into the last word, passed
unnoticed. Expressions of amazement and congratulation were
heard on all Lopez de Bovadilla, and many other
young officers, with Alvaro de Belalcazar and the friars who
were present, crowded around the Moorish apostate, shook
hands with him, and received his tenderestembraces in return.
As soon as silence was in a measure restored, Juan descend
ed from the platform where he had been sitting, and said.- “We
well know thy bravery, Almanzor, and thy high repute; but
wert thou the lowest of Moorish subjects, we could not but hail
thy conversion to ihe true faith. Accept my greeting, and
may thy Christian piety equal thy Moslem courage.”
Almanzor eagerly seized the proffered hand of Juan d’Agui
lar, and raised it to his lips. But, as if not content with even
this extraordinary demonstration of affection, he threw his arms
around Juan’s neck, and planted the most fervid kisses upon
his cheek and mouth. Hardly could the Spaniard detach him
self from the clinging embraces of the Moor. But, when he
succeeded in freeing himself, he was struck with the change in
the appearance of the latter. The Moslem’s complexion had
grown livid and horrible to behold ; his blood-shot eyes glared
like crimson meteors ; his frame shook, and his lips which
twitched convulsively, gave forth a dreadful smile. A frantic
laugh succeeded ; and lifting his bared arms on high, Alrnnn
zor shrieked forth : “Detested infidels ! ye are my victims I
A mortal contagion is in my lips. Look, lo«k on this burning
brow, these startingcyeb ills, these strained and distorted sin
ews ! Ha, ha ! thus, thus must ye die, even as I die now !”
He fell writhing upon the ground. A cry of horror rose
from the Spaniards, for then were they made aware that it was
the plague with which they had been contaminated.
THE FIELD OFWATERLOO.
FROM THE BRUSSELS CORRESPONDENT OF THE N.Y. STAR.
It may amuse you to receive a letter written, if not actually
on the field of Waterloo, at least within sight of it. From
Brussels to Waterloo is but a pleasant drive, and I now only
wonder that I have not been here long ago. But, to tell the
truth, Ido not like visiting any shew place in a crowd, and
having steadily resisted all invitations to form one of a party
hither, have come by myself—the advantage is that lam not
likely io quarrel with my company.
I am now quartered for the night at a village inn (the hotel
des Golonnes) in the village of St. John, (St. Jean,} which was
within the English lines on the great day, which swept Napo
leon from the throne. It is nearly 24 years since that event
took place, and it is exactly 18 years from this very day that
the fettered eagle died in that island which was the prison, and
is the mighty monument to his immortal memory. I have
dined, or rather supped offajoint of ros-bif accompanied with
a pleasant cider, which is as much up as English champagne,
and with a bottle of passable claret, and a cheroot, it is hard if
a man cannot gel on very well. But I have an hour or so to
spare—and here it goes to bestow my tediousness on thee.
Travellershave told the world over and over again, how the
field of Waterloo was.— l think you had as well learn how it is.
Changed enough, God knows. Cultivation has done some
thing to effect this change, but villainous bad taste, and royal
vain glory have done the rest. In the plain; the Dutch erected
a huge mom d, shaped like a cone, on which they placed a Bel
gic lion. Th : s hillock was actually made, to mark the spot
where the Prince ofOrange was wounded. And to do the mat
ter thoroughly about twenty feet of the soil were leveled snvay
to >fome extent—-thus changing the very character of the scene
of Battle ! The localities are thus destroyed. You read an
accost of the battle, and when you visit the scene of action,
you cW n °t ooderstand how the battle was fought, and you
wonder’wlty yor ( cannot. The French cavalry were checked
in their V dvan 9'e by the roughness of the ground—the mound
manufactt( rer lias cleared it all away. A bank sheltered the
English from the deadly sweep of the French guns—
the bank islmken away. The English troops for hours sus
tained the tKtack of the French in one commanding position
that has bein shoveled away! All this has been done to tell
that a Dutch Prince'-was wounded on the field.
Besides to say nothing of the strong chance of the Belgians
or French forcibly removing this monument, of vanity—it is
already decaying. Every fall of rain brings down a part of it.
Nature is getting an ascendency ovter art. The guard, whose
locale is at the foot of this hillock, finds it difficult to keep any
thing like an ascent of stairs for tLe visitors. To crown all,
the Belgians (who do not like the Prince of Orange,) are re
solved that the lion (cast at Cockrell’s foundry in 1817) shall
be demolished.
From the place where this poor lion stands, you command a
good view of the field of Waterloo—but the only way is to
traverse it on foot as I did this blessed day, under the cicerofip
sliip of one Cotton, formerly a serjeant-major in the 7th Hus
sars. The best elevated view is from such an observatory as
was occupied by Napoleon during the battle.. The wood of
Poignesis rapidly vanishing. The owners are cutting it down
every year. The Duke of Wellington has an estate here (as
Prince of Waterloo,) and he also is cutting down his timber.
By and by, when Belgium falls into the possession of France
or the Prussians, or is again joined to Holland, it will be some
revenge to have cut down every stick in the country !
Hougomont is becoming a ruin—but then, as a set off, the
willow over the Marquis of Anglesea’s amputated leg is very
flourishing. George IV. visited Waterloo when on the Con
tinent in September, 1821, and is said to have contemptuously
smiled at the idea of a gorgeous monument over the said leg.
It was ostentatious vanity to have put such a thing there the
more inexcusable as the Marquis of Anglesea is a man of un
doubted valor.
There are numerous guides, but Cotton is the best. The
natives insist that the Dutch won the battle, and blame Cotton
(who Was present and very severely wounded) for affirming that
the Duke of Wellington and his troops had some share in the
victory. The Prussians say that Blucher was the conqueror.
The French—say as little about the matter as they can.
Visitors to Waterloo are tormented, as I was, by hordes of
people ottering relics for sale. There are bits of red and blue
cloth, buttons, flints, helmet ornaments, and so on. Now these
without exception, are manufactured relics. They are all made
at Brussels. Avoid them as if they were infectious. You may
pick up a relic yet. I found one bullet in the middle of a lump
of clay.
Os human relics there remain many. The bones of the
dead are perpetually turned up by the plough. They say that
the field of Waterloo has been remarkable for its fine cofn since
the battle. The year after the fight, the corn all came up of
dark green—human gore had made the land much too rich.
All the maps, except Sergeant-Major Cotton’s, are wrong.
I mean all sold at the hotels at St. Jean, or by the native
guides. They are all turned the wrong way, so that the French
and English occupy on the maps, different’sides to those occu
pied by them on the field. This is a difference.
I believe it is not generally known that, in the a-‘ ' 1
1814, a$ the Duke vveiiington was passing over
he tyasstruck with the qspect of the place. “This,” said he
“is the very spot I would choose on which to fight a nitched
aide for the hberues of Europe.” He even remained a day
at Mont St. Jean, and carefully examined the place. No doubt
this observation was of essential service to him on June 18
1815. v ’,
As for accommodation al St, Jean, at present, I need not
H y .'l , 'l ’r V' S 5QOtl 38 Can be «P«cted, and at the
inu nameW 1 h ° ,iSe deS P he itS hi « h so, '" d '
tblv S '° R ’, hSU U,ere i 8 « O 0d ’ coffee ’ P relt y ‘ole.
Hb .v passable wine, and the prettiest little Belgic
ueaqty that ever smiled behind a bar. While pretty Catharine
remains at the Hotel des Colonnes, I conscientiously recom
mend a I travellers not to go to the rival hostelry 'yclept the
Hotel de la Courone. People should admire Nature and her
works, and a pretty woman is surely the best of them !
Remarkable Occurrence.— The following singular facts wore rela
ted m our hearing a few days sijee. The source from which the in
formation was received, is such as to put all doubt as to its truth and
correctness, out of the question.
A female slave belonging to a resident of the adjoining county of
Burke, about fifteen years ago, had a violent attack of fever, and
Mas reduced to so low a state, that at two several times she was sup
posed to bo (load ; and was, as often folded in lior shroud ; but was
saved from interment by some slight signs of remaining life. And
though she ultimately recovered from her sickness, she remained, from
that time to the present, utterly helpless; and was entirely without
tlie power of speech. Jor fifteen years she never spoke a word.
Bhe was then about thirteen years of age.
About two weeks ago, without giving any other manifestations that
ioi peculiar condition, had undergone .a change, she commenced
speaking with as much readiness and ease, as one whose potver of
utterance had never been hindered or impaired. And what renders
the circumstance still more remarkable is, that she commenced speak
ing by repeating passages from the Bible, praying, and singing hymns;
and it is said she can repeat passages from the Scriptures to "an al
most incredible number. She remains in the same helpless condi
tion of ,bydy as heretofore.-- Lincolnton N. C. Repub.
The last Arctic Expedition.—o staled in our papcrlf
the result of Messrs. Simpson and Dense’s ditwnverms oil tlie
of the Arctic sea in the summer vs 1838. Tlio following likier* I JHk
the London Sun, give the particulars of their journey. \ /jWt-F
[Boston Daily xidvkrtiseff <
Fort Confidence, Great Bear Lake, Sept. 15. V-838.’ .0
Honorable Sirs: ft now becomes our duty to report the inwmpW!®-
success of the expedition to the eastward this summer, in consequeifctf
of the extraordinary duration of the ice. Muth however, has
done to prepare the way for another attempt next year; and oof hopes,,
instead of being depressed, are elevated by the knowledge »a pain
fully acquired this season.
On the 6th of June our boats were conveyed on the ice to the
mouth of Dease’s river (then just open) the ascent of which wa»
commenced the following day. With some asufistance from Iqdians,
we reached the portage, leading to the “ DismdV’ lakes,
by Mr. Simpson last winter,) and carried the boats acres* it Without
accident. The ice on these lakes was still perfectly solid; arid we
were provided with iron shod sledges for the pessage. On these
we fixed the boats, and the wind being fair, hoisted sail, which great
ly aid the crews on the hauling ropes. In this manner these frown-'
reservoirs, which are fully thirty miles long, were passed in two days, •
and we reached our provision station ut “ Kendall” river on the 19th. -
There we had the satisfaction to find two men (left there by Mi. S
. April) well, and their flare Indian hunters successfulJn the cliftur.
1 woof these active fellows consented at once to accompany us along
the coast, and proved not only good voyagers, but during our fre
quent detentions among the ice, killed so many rein-deer as enabled
us to save nearly half our summer stock of provisions. Next day
(■( l,11( ; 20) we proceeded to the Copper Mine river, which we found
stuMost. It gave way on the 22d, and we descended all its “ terri
ble rapids at the full flood, while the ice was still driving. Bell w
the Bloody Fall the river did not clear out till the 26th; and on the
Ist of July we pitched our tents at the ocean. Two or thrm- Esq li
rnaux families were seen there, but they took the alarm and iled m er
the ice to some distant island. Here, and on various parts of t>e
coast, a fine collection of plants was n»ade by Mr. Dense, p.
We remained imprisoned in the motfth of the CopperminCrawaft
ing the opening of the ice, till the 17th of July. Our subsequent
progress along the coast was one incessant, we may say
struggle with the same cold obduraet foe, in which the boats sustain
ed serious damage, several planks being more than half cut through.
At various points we saw caches of tlfe Esquimaux placed upon lof
ty rocks, out of reach of beasts of prey; but we did not fall ui will
any of the owners, who seemed had all gone inland to kill
after their seal hunt among the islands. Fragments of Dr. Richaijl
son’s mahogany boats were found widely scattered, and many arti
cles left by this party at the Bloody Fall were carefully preseived rn
the native keepings. On the 29th of July, we at length
in doubting Cape Barrow. The northern part of Bathurst’s Ihlet
was still covered with a solid sheet of ice, and instead of being able
to cross over direct to Point Turnagain, we were compelled to make
a circuit of 140 miles by Arctic Sound and Barry Islands. Ort the
easternmost of that group. Mr. Simpson discovered at the baw of
a crumbling cliff, several pieces of pure copper ore, and the adjacent
island had the appearance of being strongly impregnated with that
metal. A series of specimens of all the principal rocks along tit®
coast was pre«erved. In order to attain Cape Flanders, we haff
perform a portage across an island, and several over the ice, Oa
the 9th of August we doubled the cape, and in a little bay threp mHe*
to the southward of Franklin’s farthest encampment in 1821, out
boats were finally arrested by the ice, which encompasses them 22dsj
so different was the season of 1838 from that of 1821, when Frank!
lin found a perfectly open sea there on tire 16th of August. In June?
the early part of July, and the middle of August, we had frequent
storms accompanied by snow and frost; but during the greater part
of July and the beginning of August, calms prevailed, which togetlw
er with the severity of the preceding winter, we consider as tbq
cause of the tardy disruption of the ice this season.
On the 20th of August we were obliged to relinquish our Hopes of
advancing further with the boats. That our efforts might not, how
ever, prove wholly fruitless. Mr. Simpson offered to conduct an ex- '
ploring party on foot for ten days. It was at the same time arrang
ed between us that in the event of any favarable movement taking
place in the ice, Mr. Deasc should advance with one boat. Signals
were agieed upon to prevent our missing each other on the way ; and
should we unfortunately do so, the last day of August was fixed for]
the.rendezvous of both parties at Boat Harbor. That unlucky spot!
is situated in latitude sixty-eight degrees, sixteen minutes, twenty-five;
seconds, North longitude, one hundred and nine degrees, twenty min-1
utes, forty-five seconds West; variation of the compass forty-six
degrees, East, Mr. Simpson’s narrative of his journey and discove
ries to the eastward is annexed.
On the 21st of August we cut our way out of our icy harbor— the
grave of one year’s hopes: and having the benefit of fair winds,
crossed Bathurst’s Inlet among Wilmot Islands, and safety re-enter
ed the Coppermine River on the 3d of September. The following
day we proceeded to the Bloody Fell, and there secreted our super
fluous provisions. The assent of the Coppermine, (hitherto deemed
impracticable) to near the junction of Kendall River was accom
plished on the sth day. We deposited the bthtts in a woody bluff, «
where they can be convenientlo repaired next spring; then taking
our bundles on our backs we traversed the barren gfounes and re
turned te winter quarters yesterday.
Here we had the satisfaction to "find every thing in good order, the
buildings rendered more comfortable, and some provisions collected.
Our return so much earlier than we ourselves expected on leaving
Point Turnagam, has enabled us to commence the fall fisheries in
good time; and though our stock of ammunition and other neces
saries for the Indians is reduced very low, want no longer stares
in the face as it did for several months after our arrival here last yea|B\ «
We are most happy to add that the natives have experienced neithAjt?
famine nor sickness this season, the only death within our J
being that of a blind old man.
.September 20.—We have the honor to acknowledge the receipt
this afternoon of Governor Simpson’s despatch of February 28th. 3 j
As things have fallen out this season, it is fortunate that no party was •
sent down the Great Fish river to meet us; and from the experience
we now posses of the coast to the eastward, we are of opinion that
a retreat by the Coppermine may be effected, when the entire
ascent of the Great Fish river would be no longer practicable. We
feel deeply indebted for the confidence reposed in us, and the ample
authority granted by the Governor’s circular and previous letters to
draw upon the resources of all parts of the country. This power
we have hitherto used in extreme moderation, and we are glad tosav
that we are not reduced to the necessity of exercising it any further.
One of our men leaves us in consequence of a bad complaint, and
has been replaced by a servant from McKenzie’s River. To C. J.
McPherson, the gentleman in charge of that district we are indebted
for valuable assistance in many ways; likewise to C. F. McLeon, of
Othabasca. Between them our order of last winter for an additional
supply of pemmican dogs, sledge wood, leather, ammunition, guus,
axes, and tobacco, has been completed, while the kind and prompt at
tention of chief trader Ross at Norway House, has filled the private
orders of our people, for a part of which we now sent to Great Slave
Lake. By the same conveyance we discharge our Cbippewayan
hunters, as we are unable to provide them any longer with clothing.
Since writing the foregoing, .ve have been obliged to condemn oo»
of our two seaboats. In its stead we shall transport an inland baXr
teau, of rather a superior construction, built by Ritch. at Fort Chip
pewayan, two years ago, to the Coppermine next June, by the route
followed this year; making up the additional hands required to nav
igate such a craft with Hare Indian hunters. And to convey the ex
pedition from this dreary abode at the close of our enterprise,, we
shall again require the aid of a boat from McKenzie’s river.
With the utmost respect, we have the honor to remain, Hon. Sirs.,
your most obedient and humble servants,
. x PETER W. DEASE,
‘ a,gned ’ , THOMAS SIMPSON.
To the Governor, Deputy Governor, and Committee of the Hom-
Hudson’s Bay Company.
RisiNG.—The following testimony in favor of early
- •<><irg, and persuasion to the practice, addressed tv those
are without experimental knowledge of its advantages, is i»T ra
the Cincinnati Republican :
Who would not rise early on a beautiful morning ? Gentle-*
men, awake from your slumbers, with the dawn ; mount you?
horses, and ride out, to partake of the freshness of the atmos-.
phere ; climb the green hills that surround our noble city ; and
while listening to the singing birds, watch for the coming day’s
bright orb. And yon ladies! rise early also; and scent the
morning air, which like soothing balm, comes fresh from the
brows of the far-off mountains; go forth at the hour when the
lark first awakes his songofjoy to the God of na ure; at the
moment when the sun leaves his bed of crimson and yellow aodi
the first notes of the morning hymn float softly and beautifully
through your open casements. Put on your bonnets, andt
away to the green fields—arouse the soft perfumes from their
couches on the bosoms of the gay young flowers—bruise with
your pretty feet the sparkling dews from the grass, for soon
they will be exhaled by the soothing rays of the noonday sun ;
refresh your lips with the pure waters of the gliding streamlets. H
Would you improve your minds, up with the first beam of morn,
and go forth to scan the beauties of nature, then in her sublim
est mood. Are you in ill-heath? seek the “spirit stirring” air
of the earliest dawn. Would you add a rose to your beauty,
court to your cheeks nature's rouge that is blent with the
morning winds.
Then up" and nwav with the morning’s dawn,
To gather sweet flowers in the dewy lawn.
Valuable Dos—-About 8 o’clock, on Tuesday morning, a
man and a small boy were seen fishing in a small boat on the
Schuvlkill, having a large dog with them in the boat. When
nearly opposite to Arch street, the man fell overboard, and the
dog immediately plunged in, seized him by the coat, and bore
him to the shore, about sixty yards distant. The man appear
ed to use no exertion, but lay motionless until he reached terra
firma. One of our reporters who saw the affair, supposed it to
be some one trying the skill of his dog, rather than an accident j
but in either case, such a|| apimal is a valuable acquisition,
. ■ •