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expand1997 (1)
1Author:  Woodworth Samuel 1784-1842Requires cookie*
 Title:  The champions of freedom, or The mysterious chief  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The rocky precipice which now sheltered these few “hardy gleanings” of so many desperate fights, was within a few paces of the river's margin; but not a boat was there to receive them. In this extremely painful situation they remained many minutes, when they found themselves suddenly surrounded by more than five times their number; and knowing that a further resistance would produce an useless effusion of blood, they reluctantly complied with their leader's advice, who sighed in the performance of what had now become a necessary duty, for the prevention of a greater sacrifice. They threw down their arms in sullen despondency, which Scott, with a graceful dignity peculiar to himself, tendered his sword to his more fortunate opponent. “Your last, my son, is now before me, and every sentence yields me pleasure, except that in which you mention Amelia's fears on my account. Assure her from me, that the moment any real cause of alarm presents itself, I shall not be backward in providing for the safety of myself and those under my protection. It grieves me that she should make herself unhappy in anticipating evils that may never arrive. Let me intreat her, through you, to banish every fear for the safety of her father, and repose her trust in that merciful Being who, in the operations of his providence, never permits an evil to take place but for the ultimate good of his creatures; and it is our duty to submit without a murmur. I do not wish it to be understood that the ordinary human means of shunning an impending danger are to be neglected: so far from it, I should conceive that I was tempting the Almighty, to remain in a place of danger, when I could retreat consistently with duty. I repeat, that I will remove from Mulberry-Grove the moment I apprehend any 27* danger from staying. Were it a tenable fortress, the case would be different. Let this assurance restore peace to the bosom of my child. “Sir—I have the honor to inform you, that on the 25th inst. being in the lat. 29 N. long. 29, 30, W. we fell in with, and, after an action of an hour and an half, captured his Britannic Majesty's ship Macedonian, commanded by captain John Carden, and mounting forty-nine carriage guns (the odd gun shifting.) She is a frigate of the largest class, two years old, four months out of dock, and reputed one of the best sailors in the British service. The enemy being to windward, had the advantage of engaging us at his own distance, which was so great, that for the first half hour we did not use our carronades, and at no moment was he within the complete effect of our musketry and grape—to this circumstance and a heavy swell, which was on at the time, I ascribe the unusual length of the action. “Yours of the fifteenth December came duly to hand, and has yielded me indescribable pleasure. The unparalleled achievements of our gallant sailors, must convince every man, not blinded by prejudice, of the importance of a respectable naval establishment. This is a point to which the strength and resources of our country can be directed with advantage—with honor— with complete success. Congress will become convinced of this without a very long study in that dear school you speak of. “I hasten, my dear brother, to furnish an antidote to the melancholy which the writing of your last must have occasioned. “Another Naval Victory, my dear George, has rewarded the courage and enterprise of American sailors, and the name of Lawrence is now inscribed with those of Hull, Decatur, Jones, and Bainbridge, on an imperishable pillar of glory. “We are now standing on and off the harbor of York, which we shall attack at day-light in the morning. I shall dedicate these last moments to you, my love, and to-morrow throw all other ideas but my country to the winds. As yet I know not if general Dearborn lands; he has acted honorably so far, and I feel great gratitude to the old gentleman: my sword and pen shall both be exerted to do him honor. I have no new injunction—no new charge to give you; nor any new idea to communicate; yet we love to commune with those we love, more especially when we conceive it may be the last time in this world. Should I fall, defend my memory: and only believe, had I lived, I would have aspired to deeds worthy of your husband. Remember me with a father's love—a father's care, to our dear daughter, and believe me to be, with the warmest sentiments of love and friendship, your “Sir—Pity alone has prompted me to take this method of relieving an embarrassment which must not only be very painful to your feelings, but which (judging from what I this day witnessed) will so impede the performance of your professional duties, as to endanger your reputation. But, sir, you may discard all apprehensions from your mind—I shall never molest you. You know the word of George Washington Willoughby is sacred—it was never yet violated—I shall not condescend to chastise a being whose meanness has sunk him so far below my resentment. I know what you might reasonably expect from many of our young officers, were they placed in my situation. But it is well known to you that my notions of honor are altogether different. You have never injured me, because—it was not in your power. But even if your despicable attempts had succeeded—had you robbed me of my greatest earthly treasure, your blood would no more tend to wash away the injury, than that which daily flows in the meanest butcher's shambles. Entertain no fears, then, for your life; I shall never seek to deprive you of a gem so tarnished with corruption, and yet, so dear to its possessor. “Call all your native fortitude to your aid, my son, for the intelligence I have to communicate is afflicting. Catharine Fleming is safe under my protection—would I could say she was well. Her amiable mother has joined the rest of her unfortunate family in a better world. Fleming is a prisoner of war, and their house is in ashes. Mulberry Grove exhibits nothing but a black heap of smoking ruins. “First recover that— and then thou shalt hear further.” “I am happy, my dear boy, to inform you, that by a courier, who is travelling express from Harrison's head-quarters to Erie, I have received a letter from Fleming, written on board an English gun-boat in Sandusky Bay, just preparing to sail for Malden. He is anxious to learn the fate of his family, and fears the worst. Catharine herself has undertaken to relieve this suspense, by writing immediately, and as flags are frequently passing between the two armies, there will be no difficulty attending its conveyance, except the customary inspection of its contents, which is of no consequence. I am sensible of Harrison's disposition to oblige me, and he has promised to exert his influence in procuring Fleming's release. May the choicest blessings of Heaven rest upon the hero's head. “We arrived at this place on the evening of the thirteenth instant. By a pilot-boat, which was sent out for observation, a British sail was discovered at anchor near one of the islands, and the signal for chase was immediately made. By dark, we were almost within gunshot of the enemy; one hour more of day light, and she would have been captured. A very severe storm came on, and for fear of getting the squadron separated, we anchored for the night. Captain Richardson has gone on shore to proceed to Harrison's head-quarters at Seneca, and accompany the general down to the fleet. General Clay, the commandant at Fort Meigs, has received orders from Harrison to reduce the compass of that fort in such a manner as to enable three hundred men to hold it, and then march with the balance of his force to 42 head-quarters, at Seneca. Preparations are accordingly making to convey the stores, ammunition, and cannon, to Cleveland and Seneca, which it will take about ten days to accomplish. After these arrangements are completed, a force of five thousand troops, regulars and militia, will embark on board this squadron, and be conveyed to Malden, where Harrison will retrieve all that Hull lost. Previous to the embarkation, however, you may expect to hear that we are masters of the lake. “The last eastern mail has brought us the welcome news of Another Naval Victory, the particulars of which I will relate as far as they have been made public, before I descend to local and domestic subjects. “You was right, my dear Willoughby—“Revenge will not remedy the evil.” British blood has flowed in torrents, and still I am the last remaining twig on our family tree; nor can all the blood that flows in English veins, resuscitate the other branches, or restore my lost happiness. We have had a battle, and hundreds of Englishmen are laid low—many of them beneath the waters of Erie. The survivors are our prisoners, and I have conversed with many of them who would willingly die for their country, but who loudly condemn the conduct of those ministers whose ambition has plunged them into a war with their brethren. It is the blood of such men, the blood of our brethren, that has so lavishly crimsoned the waves of this lake, and their blood will cry for vengeance on those ambitious wretches who guide the counsels of England. You was right—these men, whom I have been so eager to destroy, do `commiserate my sufferings, and denounce the authors of them.' Every English groan that has saluted my ears since the battle, has caused me to confess—`that was not the voice which decreed my brother's death; that man had no hand in dragging me on board a British ship; he never employed an Indian to murder my sister; why then should I rejoice at his sufferings?' I do not; I am a convert to your doctrine, and my present tenderness to those poor wounded men who are placed under my care, shall in some measure atone for my former error. “Good news, my dear Willoughby! Detroit, Sandwich, Malden—all that Hull and you lost, and all that you might have taken—is now in possession of the Americans. Tecumseh is slain, Proctor fled, and the British army captured, with all their camp equipage and their leader's private baggage. Harrison is the hero who has achieved all this, by the valor of the brave troops under his command. I have just conversed with an officer who served as a volunteer in this brilliant affair, and he has furnished me with the following particulars: “Be not alarmed, my daughter, that this letter is not written by your father's hand. That hand is, alas! too much enfeebled by disease to hold a pen; I have, therefore, employed that of my most excellent friend, captain Miller, who has generously offered to make a journey to Ithaca for the sole purpose of conveying to you the last injunctions and blessing of your affectionate father.” “Adieu, my dearest, best friend—adieu, until we meet in that world where parting will be no more. I should feel guilty of an unpardonable neglect, did I longer delay to inform you that I am rapidly sinking beneath the iron hand of affliction. Grief for the loss of my parents has made such havoc with my constitution, that my health I fear can never be again restored. I shall never cease to love you—no, not even in heaven; next to my Saviour's, your image will be the object which I shall contemplate with the greatest delight, through the boundless ages of eternity. My greatest earthly comfort is the perusal of your affectionate epistles—this is the first I have ever written to you—it will be the last you must ever expect—preserve it as a legacy of my affection. I will not conceal—for why should I?—that your presence would soothe my dying hour, and that the transition would be sweet from your arms to those of my attendant angels, who are waiting to receive me. But I will not drag you from those higher duties to which you are called by your God and your country. Continue to serve both faithfully, and you will one day be again restored to your ever faithful “It is my good fortune, my dear sir, to announce that I have for the second time, witnessed the glorious sight of a whole British fleet surrendering to the superior skill and bravery of American seamen. Our gallant commodore, M`Donough, will now vie with Perry, while the name of M`Comb will be coupled with those of Harrison, Brown, Scott, Boyd, Ripley, Porter, &c. The eleventh of September will also shine as bright on the page of history, as the tenth. But I will descend to particulars. “Heaven be praised for all its mercies! Catharine is safe! Yes, my dear sir, my poor niece is alive—well—among friends—uninjured—happy, as she can be while separated from us. The inclosed will tell you all—it is from my son, who is in New-Orleans, where he has just taken a wife. Read it, and then join with me in adoring that Being whose `judgments are unsearchable, and whose ways are past finding out.' “Be happy, my dear mother, for I have good news to communicate. Our cousin Catharine Fleming is safe under my protection—the same innocent happy being, as when we were romping together at Ithaca. Pause, while you freely indulge the rapturous tears of joy, and then proceed to particulars.
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