University of Virginia Library

THE BEARER OF DESPATCHES.

Shortly after the defeat of the British army at
Fort Erie, in the brilliant sortie planned and executed
by General Brown, that officer received intelligence
that General Izard was on his way to join
him with a large force. A few weeks sooner, this
intelligence would have been highly gratifying. The
American army, hemmed in by a foe whose numbers
more than quadrupled their own, had been
placed in an embarrassing situation. The fort was
situated on low flat ground, and the season being
very wet, the constant tramping of so many men had
converted the whole place into one great mud puddle;
the garrison who were lodged in tents, were
exposed to continual rains; there was no spot secure
from the elements, and a dry vestment, bed,
or blanket, was, at times, not to be found within
our line of sentinels; while the frequent alarms, and

the necessary “watch and ward” left only intervals
for that broken slumber which refreshes not.
But little pay, if any, had been received during the
campaign—money there was absolutely none—and
our diet was necessarily confined to the ration of
meat and bread, which was not of the best kind.
The perpetual shower of cannon balls and bursting
of bomb-shells was not a matter of complaint, for
this was soldier's luck; to be shot at was our vocation;
and as we failed not to amuse ourselves at the
batteries during a part of every day, we had, at least,
the satisfaction of believing that our fallen companions
would not, like Scipio's ghost, “stalk unrevenged
among us.” But nestling in the mire, and
starving and coughing our lungs away, were matters
which had not entered into our contract with the
government, and on which our commissions, as well
as the “rules and articles,” were silent. It was not
so “nominated in the bond.” Why could not Uncle
Sam send us food, and physic, and a few lusty
fellows to help us fight? Where there are no superfluous
men, every one who falls leaves a niche; and
while we beheld our little force gradually wasting
away, it was provoking enough to reflect that our
country was full of men, some of whom abused us,
some laughed at us, a few praised and none assisted.
I may add, that the foe had vowed our extermination,
and on one occasion had marched up to our
batteries, filling the air with the dreadful war cry—
“no quarter—no quarter to the d—d Yankees!!”
and that noble spirit of emulation, that generous
contention, and courteous interchange of kindly
offices upon proper occasions, which should exist
among civilized armies, were all swallowed up in
the deep hate excited by the cold-blooded cruelty
of the enemy. As war, disease, and the doctor,
daily thinned our ranks, it seemed evident, that unless
supplies should arrive, we must become the
victims of that unrelenting barbarity, of which our
fellow citizens, on various occasions, have had sufficient
experience. Our country, however, still forgot
us, and I know not what would have become of
us, had it not been for one kind-hearted gentleman.
He was a Quaker gentleman; and the Quakers, you
know, are famed for benevolence. Slipping out of
the Fort one day, about noon, when John Bull never
dreamed of such a matter, he dexterously cut off
about a third of their army, and by that “free use of
the bayonet,” which the British commander had
recommended upon a recent occasion, he saved his
own credit, and the throats and scalps of his men,
who filled the air with acclamations. The enemy,
completely defeated, retired; and General Brown,
not having force enough to pursue, could only make
his bow, and wish them good bye.

At this juncture a despatch arrived, announcing
that General Izard had left Plattsburg; was to embark
at Sackett's Harbour, and passing up the lake,
touch at the mouth of the Eighteen Mile Creek,
whence his course would be directed, in a great

measure, by the intelligence he might receive from
General Brown. It was desirable, therefore, that
he should be met at that point by an officer from
Fort Erie, who could advise him of the exact situation
of the garrison, and the relative positions and
srength of the two contending armies, and convey
the communications of General Brown. A young
artillery officer was accordingly summoned to the
general's quarters, and after receiving the necessary
instructions, he was ordered to get himself in
readiness to set out immediately. “General Izard
must be met,” said the commander, “at the hour he
has appointed: can you reach the place by that
time?” “Oh, yes, certainly, sir,” replied the young
artillerist, “though I must confess that I neither
know the route nor the distance.” The General
smiled, named the distance, hastily indicated the
route, and reminding his envoy that there was barely
time left to accomplish the journey by the most rapid
riding, wished him a pleasant jaunt.

The Bearer of Despatches crossing an arm of the
lake, which separates Fort Erie from Buffalo, repaired
to the quarter master to procure a horse,
and being well mounted, departed early in the afternoon
of the same day. Two routes were presented
to his choice; the one was the main road which led
by Batavia, and was too circuitous to be travelled
within the allotted time; the other was an unfrequented,
but more direct path, which, leading in the
neighbourhood of Fort Niagara, then in possession of

the enemy, was fraught with danger: but it was necessarily
chosen. A large cloak disguised the person
of our soldier, concealing his arms and military
insignia; and he hoped under the cover of night, to
pass the vicinity of the Fort unobserved. By rapid
riding he reached the neighbourhood of Schlosser a
little before sunset, and being unwilling to approach
Queenstown early in the evening, he checked his
horse and rode leisurely along. Cooped up, as he
had been, he now enjoyed with an exquisite relish
the luxuries of pure air, exercise, and liberty. His
route lay along the margin of the Niagara river,
which now separated him from those glorious fields
which had been so recently drenched in gore, and
in which American valour had been so conspicuously
displayed. A few weeks before, he had passed
along the opposite shore in all the fervour of youthful
hope and military pride, surrounded by the pomp
and circumstance of glorious war, by the tumult
and glitter of an army with flying colours, and drums
and hearts beating. Now the solitary horseman
rode alone; the breeze bore not the accents of men,
nor did the distant echo whisper danger in his ear,
but his eye dwelt upon scenes of interest; well
known spots occasionally glanced upon his vision:
here an army had been encamped, there a battle
fought, and under those trees slept many a companion!
The last rays of the sun fell upon his back,
and the trees threw their gigantic shadows along the
path before him. At such an hour the eye is most
delighted with the beauties of a wild landscape,
when the nooks, and glens, and secluded places begin
to darken into the gloom of twilight, while the
sun-beams still glitter on the hills and tree-tops, or
sleep upon the waves. The Niagara was rippling
along its rocky channel, murmuring and fretting as
it rushed towards the precipice, over which its descent
causes one of the sublimest objects in nature.
These circumstances all combined to wrap the heart
of the traveller in sweet and pleasing meditation;
and he rode on, enjoying those dreams, which, creeping
imperceptibly into young hearts, hold the imagination
entranced in delight; in irresistible delusions,
full of rapture, variety, and beauty. The
hour was witching, the scene picturesque, the very
air melodious; and the realities around him became
mellowed, and softened, and spiritualised into airy
creations of the fancy. The mind, warmed into romantic
feeling, gave its own hue to the surrounding
objects; rude and familiar things took to themselves
wings and flew away; vulgar associations were banished;
the scenery disposed itself into shapes and
shades of beauty; bright and varied colours fell
upon the landscape; creatures of fancy peopled the
shade, and the breeze murmured in numbers.

Our officer halted a moment at Schlosser to make
some enquiries relative to his route, and learning
that a countryman had just passed along, whose
homeward path led in the very direction desired,
he determined to profit by his company and guidance.

Spurring his steed, therefore, he rode
rapidly on. Near the Falls, he overtook the boor,
plodding heavily along. He was a man whose
general outline announced him to be of the middle
age; but his visage placed him in the decline of
life. Dissipation had probably anticipated the palsying
touch of time, had wrinkled his face, and slightly
tinged his hair with the frosty hue of winter. His
bloodshot eyes gave proof of habitual intemperance;
but there was speculation in them, and a vile speculation
it was; it was the keen, cunning, steady
glance of one who in his time had cut, shuffled, and
dealt, who could slip a card, and knew where the
trumps lay. With this was mingled the dulness of
an illiterate man, and the good humour of one who
was willing to be amused, and meant no harm to
others. Saving the besetting sin above alluded to,
and perhaps the occasional passing of a counterfeit
bill upon strong temptation, a small matter for a
frontier man, he might have been a right honest fellow;
one who knew the courtesies and good feelings
of life, passed the cup merrily, would do a
neighbourly act when it came in his way, never beat
his wife when he was sober, nor troubled his children
when they kept out of his way. Such at least
was the estimate which our young soldier formed
of his companion, during their subsequent ride together,
to which it is only necessary to add, that he
seemed to have recently parted from good liquor,
and to have attained that precise point of elation,
which is well understood in every polite circle by
the phrase, a little high.

When the two riders encountered, they scrutinised
each other with that jealous caution which commonly
passed between strangers who met in those
dangerous times, in the vicinity of the hostile armies.
The cautious question and the guarded answer
passed mutually, until each had learnt as much
as he could, and disclosed as much as he pleased.
Our officer announced himself as a storekeeper,
who had been to the army to make a traffic with
the suttlers, having failed in which, he was now returning
home in haste, by a route which he was
told was nearer than the main road, and wished to
get that night to a place called—. The countryman
lived at that very place, was now going home,
although it was still upwards of sixteen miles distant,
and he said he would be glad of our traveller's
company.

They reached the Falls while daylight yet lingered
over the awful abyss, and the officer, who had
beheld this wonderful sight from the opposite shore,
proposed to his companion to halt, that he might
survey it under a new aspect. The latter, who
seemed in no haste, cheerfully complied, and even
seemed pleased with the opportunity of acting the
Cicerone, and detailing all the wonderful tales extant,
in relation to the great cataract. He did not,
it is true, relate that surprising fact which Goldsmith
has recorded, and Morse has copied from him, i. e.

that the Indians descend these rapids in their
canoes, in safety; because, notwithstanding this circumstance
is vouched for by two celebrated doctors,
great amateurs in rivers, winds, and mountains,
the vulgar give it no credit, and the natives deny it.
Strange infatuation, that the assertions of philosophers
should not be believed, in preference to our
own erring senses and crude notions of probability!
When our officer mentioned this story to his guide,
he exclaimed, “Impossible! the man's sartainly
cracked!” And had he told the same individual
that Dr. Mitchel had said that a whale was not a
fish, he would have expressed a similar astonishment;
so incredulous is ignorance, so unwillingly does it
bow to science and research. For my part, I make
it a rule never to quarrel with a philosopher, and
am therefore willing to admit that it is not only a
safe but a remarkably salubrious and amusing recreation
to paddle a canoe down the Falls and back
again.

Leaving this spot, the officer was conducted by
his guide to another object of admiration. A short
distance below the cataract, the river, rushing along
with the immense velocity acquired by being precipitated
from so great a height, suddenly strikes a
perpendicular precipice, which juts boldly into the
stream from the American side, and the current thus
thrown abruptly to the left, creates a whirlpool,
which is not the least among the curiosities of this
region. The officer advanced to the edge of the

cliff, and gazed in silence on the foaming current
and its overhanging banks, now dimly discovered
through the gray twilight. His reveries were broken
by his companion, who narrated a melancholy
tale connected with the scene of their contemplation.
Many years ago, when all of this country
was in possession of the British, a detachment of
troops, having under their convoy a number of families
with their furniture and baggage, were overtaken
by night in this vicinity. They still proceeded,
however, in hopes of reaching the forts below. But
the French and Indians had formed an ambuscade
at this very spot, and just as the devoted party were
passing along the brink of the precipice, the savage
foe rushed on them with hideous yells. Those
alone who have heard the soul-thrilling cry of the
Indian warrior, who have heard it breaking through
the gloom of the night, with all its horrible accompaniments,
with the wail of infants, and the shrieks
of women, with the groans of the dying, the prayers
and curses of the living, those only can conceive the
horror of such a moment. In vain the troops endeavoured
to resist—the tomahawk was drenched
in blood—the European heard the dreadful war-cry,
and felt that it was his knell; he received the
fatal blow from an unseen hand, and had not the
stern pleasure of beholding his antagonist, but fell
without the gratification of avenging his death, or
the honour of defending his life. Still the foe
pressed on; with the war-whoop were mingled loud
shouts of triumph and the laugh of demoniac exultation;
the soldiers gave back, the horses, panic-struck,
fled from the din of battle, and in a moment
were precipitated into the yawning gulf; men, women,
and children followed, and the whole of this
unhappy party slept that night under the wave. “It
is said,” continued the informer, “that their spirits
may still be seen of a moonlight night, dancing in
circles in yonder whirling place, where the water
goes round so rapidly—and now, see there! what is
that?” The officer looked in the direction designated
by the finger of his companion, and beheld a
black object in the whirlpool, rising a foot or two
above the surface of the water, circulating rapidly
with it, and gradually approaching the centre, until
it was swallowed in the vortex. He could easily
imagine that the trunks and boughs of trees, floating
down the current, might be drawn into the pool,
and whirling round with the velocity of the water,
might assume an upright position, and present the
appearance which alarmed the inhabitants, and gave
probability to their conjectures. I have never been
altogether satisfied with this sophism of my friend.
It is not possible at this time to ascertain the true
character of the apparition which he beheld, nor is
it my business, as a faithful historian, to risk my
reputation by giving a positive opinion upon the
subject: yet I must remark, that I have no reason,
nor had my military friend any, to induce a belief
that this was not as genuine and as honest a ghost as
ever was beheld by mortal eyes. The fact is, that
this young gentleman had lately seen so many of
his fellow mortals despatched prematurely to their
graves, that his mind had become familiarised with
death, and in his dealings with substantial dangers
he had acquired a contempt for unreal shadows. I
am glad, however, to be able to add that he had the
discretion to conceal his scepticism from his fellow
traveller, to whose remark he gravely replied, “that
human bodies when not decently buried seldom
rested in peace, but that he had never heard of their
doing any harm.” His companion assented to the
truth of this sagacious remark, and they pursued
their journey.

These conversations having banished reserve,
and the companions beginning to grow into confidence
with each other, the officer ventured to enquire
how near their route would lead to Fort Niagara,
and learnt that they must pass within a short
distance of that fortress. Concealing his sense of
the danger which this information implied to his
person and mission, he said carelessly, “Well, I suppose
they will not disturb peaceable travellers?”
“Sometimes they do, and sometimes they don't,”
was the reply. “Do they ever get out as far as
your little village?” “Oh, yes, often.” “And how
do they behave there?” “Bad enough, bad enough,”
and he then proceeded to narrate a number of particulars,
showing how these petty marauders destroyed
their property, insulted their women, and

bullied their men, adding to the most monstrous acts
of cruelty and oppression, the meanness of picking
locks and pilfering trifles. It was by no means a
matter of pleasing reflection to the Bearer of Despatches,
that he must rest that night, if he rested at
all, under a roof subject to these domiciliary visits:
but he had other causes of uneasiness. It is well
known that all the inhabitants within reach of an
English garrison, who are capable of corruption, become
corrupt. English gold, which is but a bugbear
among the virtuous, presents a tempting lure
to the loose and unprincipled inhabitants of a frontier,
who can scarcely be said to belong to any
country; and our armies sometimes encountered
spies and traitors, where they had fondly hoped to
find friends. On this occasion, our officer, who had
incautiously placed himself under the guidance of a
stranger, began to feel, as darkness gathered around
him, that he had acted imprudently, as the latter
could as easily conduct him to Fort Niagara as to a
place of safety. He concealed his suspicions, and
determined to act warily.

It was dark when they reached Lewistown, a
little village which had been entirely reduced to
ashes by the enemy. The moon, which now shone
brightly, disclosed the solitary chimneys standing
amidst the ruins, the fruit-trees surrounded by briars,
the remains of enclosures, and all the marks of
desolation. A more beautiful situation could scarcely
be imagined, but it was now a wilderness. Here
they took a path which led them from the river. A

thick forest now overshadowed them, and they proceeded
in silence and wrapped in impenetrable
darkness, except at intervals, when they reached
the summit of a hill, and the moon shot her beams
through the branches. It was only by seizing such
opportunities to watch the progress, and mark the
exact position of this friendly luminary, that our
officer, by forming some estimate of the course he
was pursuing, could judge of the fidelity of his guide.
They passed an encampment of the Tuscarora Indians,
where all was dark and silent; and about midnight
arrived at the place of destination, which,
though characterised as a village, was composed of
only two or three log cabins. To one of these,
which was dignified with the name of a public
house, our traveller was conducted by his companion,
who apologized for not inviting him to his own
house, owing to the lateness of the hour, and the
want of accommodations.

Mine host, though called from his bed, cheerfully
assisted his guest in putting away his tired horse,
and then led him through a room where three or four
rough two-fisted fellows lay snoring with their feet
to the fire, to a chamber on the upper floor. Supper
he declined, as well from policy, as from want
of appetite; and having secured the door, and laid
his pistols under his pillow, he gathered his cloak
around him, and threw himself on the bed. From
a light slumber he was waked by a low murmur of
voices in the apartment below, to which the precariousness
of his situation induced him to listen with

an intense and thrilling interest. Then a footstep
was heard upon the stairs ascending slowly towards
his apartment, and in a moment afterwards the latch
was cautiously raised. He rose, seized his arms,
and walked across the floor; the footstep retired,
the voices ceased below, and all was silent. Our
officer loved his life as dearly as other men, but it
will only be attributing to him on this occasion the
feelings of his profession, to suppose that he felt
more anxiety for his honour, and the success of his
enterprise. His broken slumbers yielded but little
refreshment during the remainder of the night; and
before the first gray streak illumined the eastern horizon,
he arose, and stole forth with noiseless steps,
passed the snoring borderers, and in a moment
breathed the free fresh air. His horse was soon
equipped, and mounting, he rode to the door,
summoned his host, who was the first to hear his
loud halloo. Surprised to find his guest in the
saddle, he made no reply to his repeated demand to
know his fare; but stepping forward, laid his hand
upon the bridle. “Hands off, my friend,” said the
soldier, “my horse is ticklish about the head.”
“Light, sir, light!” said the host, “and take a dram
before you go, it's a raw morning,”—and still held
the rein. At this moment other faces appeared at
the door; the officer liked neither their company
nor their looks, and dropping a piece of money at
the landlord's feet, he struck the spurs into the side
of his steed, and dashed off in a gallop, leaving all
danger behind.