University of Virginia Library

LETTER V.

Du Quesne was awakened in the night by the
slow and careful unlocking and opening of his
dungeon, and in the light of the setting moon,
which shone through the grates, an Indian stood
before him with his bow in his hand and his tomahawk
in his girdle. He had been dreaming of

being executed, and his first waking thought was,
that he had fallen into the hands of a new tormenter
of another world.

He was on the point of crying out; when the
Indian took him by the shoulder and pointed to
the door. He was wide awake in an instant. There
was a sense of honor which urged him to await a
public vindication of his innocence, but the conviction
that his own honesty would be no security
against the attempts of his enemies, and the strong
circumstances against him decided his resolution.
He arose and followed his deliverer. The moon
had gone down, the night was dark, and the streets
quiet. After they had gained a little distance from
the prison, the Indian directed him to stand by the
side of building, while he went himself, as it afterwards
appeared, to drop the gaol keys in a direction
different from their route and to set adrift
on the East River, one of the small boats, which,
as the tide was coming in, would float towards the
Narrows, and mislead pursuit. He then returned,
and led the way up the island in silence, at a rate
so rapid, that elate with liberty and buoyant with
hope as Du Quesne was, he could hardly keep pace
with him. The Indian travelled with the certainty
of a man familiar with every street and turn, til
he arrived at a marshy piece of ground on the North
River, at some distance from the city, where a bark
canoe lay floating among the rushes. The wind
was strong from the south, but though it was fair
for their purpose, the size and frailty of the boat,
with what he knew of the danger of the navigation,
would have made him hesitate had there been
any alternative. He was directed to lay himself
down in the boat while the Indian pushed it from
the shore, and raised a small pine mast on which
was spread a blanket in the from of a sail. He

put his skiff before the wind, and urged its motion
with a rude oar or paddle, with which, at the
same time, he directed its course. The waters
were very rough, and though his pilot was evidently
a bold one, the job in hand required skill as well as
courage. The motion of the boat through the
water was so varying as to furnish no means of
judging what progress they made. He was insensible
of his danger, but more sensible to the joy of
his recent escape.—Morning discovered them in
that part of the river which forms the entrance into
the Tappan Sound. The shores were covered with
wood to the very edge, and the land on either side
rose into mountains, which grew dim in the distance,
till they mingled with the clouds. Accustomed
as Du Quesne had been for weeks, to no
other prospect than what was to be seen from the
loop-holes of his dungeon, so many natural beauties
gradually displaying by the rising sun, till they
were shown in perfection, filled him with joy.—He
worshipped in silence and with thanksgiving, and
the thoughtful look of his new friend, seemed to
pronounce an impressive Amen.

This noble river, for a great part of its length,
discovered at that time, no appearance of art or improvement,
except, that now and then, a heavy
built Dutch vessel, moved slowly on its surface,
keeping up the only intercourse between the few
spare settlements on the banks. Still the features
of the scenery were interesting and grand. The
savage put into a solitary bay, where his canoe
was concealed by the jutting rock, but where, without
being perceived, he could observe for some distance,
those who sailed up and down the river. It
was impossible for Du Quesne to conjecture the
motives which would be so powerful with his deliverer,
as to induce all this labor, nor could he

well imagine whither he was going, or where his
journey was likely to end. The Indian seemed to
understand the turn of his thoughts, and quickly
produced a scrap of paper, on which was written,
in his proper hand, the name of Derick Van Tromp.
This satisfied his anxious inquiries, and he saw, at
once, not merely the name, but the conduct of a
friend.—His guide began smoking his pipe; they
spent the whole day without food or sleep, watching
every movement on the river, till evening returned,
when they again set forward. Their progress
was now more slow and laborious, for want
of a favorable wind. The Indian was anxious to
arrive at a particular point, for a reason that appeared
when they reached it. This was one of the
several places, where, on his way down the river,
he had deposited a part of his load of provision,
and this unlooked for repast was the more grateful
to Du Quesne, from his long fast, to which he was
not used. It was thus that they continued their
voyage till they came to a part of the river near
Sandy Hill, from which they were to proceed by
land. Here at one of his depots, Weshop rested a
day and night; both which he spent in eating and
sleeping, as preparatory to the fatigues that remained.
On the morning of the 2d day they abandoned
the canoe. and set forward on foot through
the woods. The activity and vigilance of the
guide, were now constant; he examined the ground
for what he called the signs to detect footsteps in
the grass, altered his course at the slightest noise,
and every now and then examined the bark of the
tree, which seemed to serve him as a compass. The
Indian is artful and patient, when he lays in wait,
and cautious and observing, when he fears an ambush.
Weshop obtained from a friendly Indian,
seasonable intelligence that those tribes under the
influence of the French themselves, had already
begun their attack on the frontier; and he knew
that an Indian war to those in the immediate vicinity
of it, is a state of constant exposure to the
greatest perils and sufferings without a single moment
of security. The war cry is usually unexpected;
and fire, murder, and robbery, steal without
warning, upon their victim. Weshop directed
his course to the south bay of Lake George, where
they at length arrived. A canoe was in readiness
as before, and the two travellers after many hardships,
reached a point on the western shore of
Champlain, then known by the name of Sunkettypaug.
During this long journey, they bad given
one another some occasional uneasiness without intending
it; owing to the strong contrast of their
characters. One had been educated to speak, the
other to be silent; one was made for display, the
other for concealment.

One bright November morning, when our travellers
were pursuing their way among the highlands
west of Champlain, which seem in some degree
to connect the Green Mountains in Vermont
with the northern part of the first range of the Alleghanies,
they arrived at a high opening between
the mountains, which goes by the name of Wind
Gap. The prospect to the north was commanding,
and rich with various colours—the uniform
green of the pine and hemlock, was mixed with the
blood red of the maple, and the yellow birch to
which the frost had changed their natural hue.
They both paused at the same time. One seemed
admiring the coloured beauty of the landscape,
which blended the distance with the rich
tints of the sky, whose gold, and red, and purple,
it seemed to vie with, or rather to reflect, as the
moon and the inverted trees are seen in a sheet of

water. The other gazed anxiously in one direction,
till a slight but unusual joy gladdened his
features. He pointed the way he was looking, and
asked “do you see that smoke?” It was some
time before his companion, assisted by his guide,
could answer “yes.” “There (replied he) our
journey ends. I have prayed the Great Spirit for
many days that when I should come to this spot, I
might see a smoke and not a blaze.”

It was near sundown when they arrived at the
residence of Van Tromp, which seemed for the
time to be the rendezvous of the surrounding country.
Every thing betokened confusion, and sudden
alarm. The first object that caught attention,
was the numerous group of men, women, and children,
of all colours, of many nations, dressed in
every variety of garb and fashion; Indians, Negroes
and whites, speaking as many tongues as are
taught in a German University. Their horses and
cattle, too, had been driven to the place for safety;
and they had brought such moveables as they could
manage to transport. They seemed to have been
newly assembled, and were variously employed;
some in cooking their evening meal, some in fixing
their fire-arms, some in tending cattle, and some
in building additional barracks and huts for their
present accommodation. They were generally
cheerful, and seemed glad to have reached a spot
of comparative security. For this purpose, the
place itself seemed well selected. It was elevated,
and of a triangular form; one side made by the
right side of the Chazy, another by a steep and
continued ledge which commanded the valley or
bottom land to a great distance, and the remaining
side defended artificially by a high breast work,
flanked with bastions, and protected in front by a
ditch, faced with a rude abbatis.—Within, were

several low buildings; made of logs and stone, in
separate square blocks, and sometimes connected
by a continued roof. Most of the rooms were tight
and comfortable, and some of them were decently
furnished. There were several rows of barracks
in the fort, and others on the outside, near the foot
of the walls, which answered only a present purpose,
and were to be left in case of invasion. The
garrison was made up of men well armed, and
whose habits of life rendered them the best marksmen
in the world.