University of Virginia Library

Addison's Calo.

“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.”

Before George reached the last sentence, the
characters swam before his eyes—his limbs tottered,
and he was obliged to cling to the door for

support. Logan helped him to a seat, and after
a powerful struggle with his feelings, he regained
sufficient composure to proceed.

“In my last I informed you that the depredations
of the savages were extended along the
shores of this lake, and that many of the inhabitants
had been killed or made prisoners. But a
severe check which they afterwards received
from the gallant colonel Ball, had lulled our fears
to rest, in this vicinity.

“On Sunday morning, the eighteenth instant,
young Logan arrived at the Grove, and informed
me that he had been solicited to join a party of
Seneca and Tuscorora Indians, whom Boyd had
consented to receive into the American service,
and that he was then on his way to Fort George
for that purpose. On learning that you was at
that encampment, he consented to stop until I
could prepare a letter and a small remittance for
you, which I knew could be safely confided to so
trusty a messenger. When night came, Logan,
as usual, spread his blanket in the porch, and
slept with his rifle in his hand.

“About midnight I was awakened by the report
of fire-arms, and springing from my bed,
found my chamber illumined by a bright light
that shone through my window, and before I
could slip on my clothes, Logan flew into the
room and informed me that a party of Indians had
fired the stable, and were now approaching the
house. The alarm had now spread through the
house, and the shrieks of the housekeeper and
her two daughters, added not a little to the general
consternation.

“While my laborers were hurrying on their
clothes and seizing their rifles, which we always

kept loaded, I took a position to reconnoitre the
enemy, and by the light of the conflagrated outhouses,
(which by this time were all participating
in the fate of the stable) I ascertained their force
to be not more than twenty, and that a retreat was
open for the women through the garden. They
wanted no urging to fly, and I directed them to
conceal themselves in the woods until the danger
was over. They had scarcely left the house,
when a volley of rifle slugs was poured against it,
which did no other damage, however, than shatter
the windows, and perforate the wall.

“Our force was but twelve men, including
myself. Five of them followed Logan through
the garden to attack their rear, while the rest of
us made a sortie on their front. We met them on
the platform, as they were loading their pieces,
and came upon them so suddenly that it threw
them into disorder, they having no idea that my
house was a garrison. Every rifle dropped its
man, in front and rear. The survivors returned
our fire, and then retreated with their customary
yell. We followed up the advantage we had
gained, and a second discharge so diminished
their numbers, that we imagined the contest was
terminated; when, turning my eyes towards
Fleming's, I saw his habitation in flames, and a
band of about thirty savages rapidly approaching
the Grove.

“Three of our little band were badly wounded,
but no one was dismayed. I hastily posted them
behind the stone wall which separates the little
orchard from the road, with orders to reserve
their fire until the advancing savages (with whom
the fugitives had now formed a junction) were
passing the muzzles of our pieces. One of our

party, however, imprudently, fired too soon, and
totally defeated the object of my arrangement.
The savages paused a moment, and then assailed
our little breast-work with such fury that it was
soon carried, while our fire was wasted at random.
Our party was surrounded, and nearly
cut to pieces; Logan fought like a blood-hound,
beating down the foe with the but end of his rifle,
until the stock was shivered in his hands; he
then seized a hatchet from a fallen chief, and
literally cut a path through the enemy, by which
three of us effected our retreat; the remainder
were either slain, or made prisoners. Logan,
myself, and a young Irishman whom I had lately
employed, were all that escaped the contest, and
we precipitately fled across the meadow towards
Cleveland, leaving the enemy masters of the field.
When we reached the road, we ventured to pause,
and looking back, saw the flames just bursting
through the roof of our habitation. A horrid yell
of the savages announced their hellish joy at the
sight, and we could now see them preparing to
decamp, several of the painted devils being
mounted on my horses.

“The sound of an approaching bugle now saluted
our ears, and in a few minutes a small corps
of mounted riflemen met us on the road from
Cleveland. The alarm had extended to that village,
and these brave fellows had immediately
assembled to pursue the barbarous enemy. I
gave their leader every necessary direction, and
the little company again set forward on a gallop.

“The day was now dawning, and I determined
to seek some intelligence respecting the family of
Fleming. With the most fearful presentiments I
approached that once happy seat of virtue and

hospitality. The ruins of the dwelling-house
were still blazing, but the barn had not been
fired. As we approached that building, Logan
directed my attention to a track of blood on the
ground, and my own curdled with horror. I rushed
forward determined to know the worst.

“The barn door was open, and we entered,
when a sight met our view, calculated to melt the
stoutest heart with pity, and nerve the weakest
with courage. On the cold bare floor sat Catharine,
supporting on her knees the head of her mother,
and endeavoring to stanch with her linen
the blood that issued from a wound in that mother's
breast. Unfortunately Logan first met the
eye of Catharine, who uttered a piercing shriek,
and sunk lifeless on the bleeding bosom of her
mother. Mrs. Fleming raised her languid eyes
to me, and attempted to speak. “Fly for assistance!”
I exclaimed to Logan, who disappeared
at the word. Assisted by Patrick, I succeeded in
removing the females to a crib of straw, spread
over them our outside garments, (for both of them
were in their night-frocks) and screened them
from the morning air as well as circumstances
would permit. Catharine soon recovered from
her swoon, but wept so excessively that I trembled
for her heart. I now examined the wound in her
mother's bosom, and shuddered on discovering
that it was made with a rifle ball! She observed
my consternation, and faintly uttered, as she
pressed my hand—

“I know it—I know it. I am sensible that my
hour is almost come, and I am resigned to my
fate. But, O, protect and comfort poor Catharine—me
you cannot help. O, my poor husband!

what may be his fate! Should Catharine be indeed
an orphan, you will not desert her?”

“A short captivity,” I replied, “is, I trust, the
worst fate that my friend is doomed to suffer from
the enemy. In any event, however, I solemnly
promise to be a friend and father to Catharine.”

“Logan now entered, with several persons of
both sexes, whom he had met flying towards the
scene of devastation, to furnish every assistance
in their power. A litter was procured for Mrs.
Fleming, on which she was gently placed, and
borne by four men to Cleveland. Fleming's family
waggon followed, with the almost distracted
Catharine, supported between two of her female
friends, assisted by myself. On our arrival, a
surgeon was procured, who immediately pronounced
the wound of Mrs. Fleming to be mortal;
and, in an hour afterwards, she expired.

“The mounted riflemen who pursued the Indians,
succeeded in driving them into the woods,
killed two, and made one prisoner. I directed
Logan to examine this Indian, and from his report
I am convinced that Fleming has fallen into their
hands alive and unhurt. Four of my little band
were left lifeless in the orchard along with seven
of the savages, who were all buried last evening
in the spot where they fell. Most of the prisoners
are severely wounded. Those who fell on the
platform, are buried in the smoking ruins of the
house.

“Of the horrid transactions at Fleming's, I can
give you no account, until Catharine becomes sufficiently
composed to relate what passed under
her observation. The body of Susan (who was
married, soon after you left us, last summer, to a
very worthy laborer on Fleming's plantation) was

found at some distance from the barn, mangled in
a manner too horrid for description—an unborn
infant, which had been torn from her womb, lay
near her feet, cloven nearly in two by a tomahawk!
The unhappy husband is probably a prisoner
with Fleming. The females of my family,
who remained concealed in the woods until after
sunrise, have arrived in safety at Cleveland.

“The bodies of Mrs. Fleming and Susan, will
be buried to-morrow, and will be followed by a
larger procession of real mourners, than this place
has ever exhibited on any former occasion.

“Catharine is, at present, inconsolable; but
“God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.” I
have communicated the melancholy event to her
uncle, William O'Hara, who has joined Perry's
squadron at Erie, and holds some respectable
office on board the commodore's brig. To-morrow
I shall write to my friend Harrison, requesting
him to exert his influence to procure the release
of the prisoners on parole; or, at least, that
of Fleming, whose presence would tend, more
than any thing else, to restore the tranquility of
Catharine's mind.

“Logan will make no delay in flying to his
preserver with this letter. If he can serve you
in any thing, make him happy by employing him.
A remittance, you must not expect; but if you
are absolutely in want, draw on your uncle in
Boston, and the draught will be duly honored.
My loss is severe, as not a single article was
saved at Mulberry Grove; but this is a loss which
can soon be repaired. My crops bid fair to be
excellent, and as I have now no barns, I shall sell
them on the field.

“I shall write again soon, when you may expect
further particulars. In the mean time, forget
not to place a due reliance on Providence,
who orders all things for the best; and still believe
me to be, as ever, your affectionate father,

“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.

“The certainty of yet possessing a father, although
in captivity, has produced a happy effect
on the mind of Catharine, whose grief has now
subsided into a pensive calm. Her meek and
humble reliance on the love and wisdom of her
Heavenly Parent, has diffused a gentle quiet
through her soul, which has already exhibited its
beneficial influence on her bodily health. Such,
my son, are the delightful effects of a genuine
christian faith. As you value happiness, both
here and hereafter, never lose sight of this beacon
to the soul; and always bear in mind, that no
faith can be genuine, which is not connected with a
good moral life.

“One of Harrison's reconnoitring or scouting
parties fell in with the savages, (after our mounted
men had driven them into the woods) killed
four of their number, and retook two prisoners;
the remainder escaped to the lake shore, where a
large body of the enemy was assembled.

“One of the re-captured prisoners is M`Dougal,
husband of the murdered Susan. From his
statement, combined with that of Catharine, and
both taken in connexion with Fleming's letter, the
following must be a tolerable correct account of
the transactions at Fleming's, on that disastrous
night:

“The savages had fired the house, before any
alarm was given; and the whole family narrowly
escaped perishing in their beds. Each one
flew, as fear impelled. Mrs. Fleming had fainted
with terror, and her husband was bearing her
in his arms towards the barn, when a shot passed
under his left armpit, and entered her bosom; of
this, however, he was ignorant, until he felt himself
covered with blood. Scarcely had he entered
the barn, when he was seized by the savages, who
tore the bleeding sufferer from his arms, and
dashed her on the cheerless floor. Raving like a
fury, Fleming scuffled until he was completely
overpowered; he was then forced away, and saw
neither wife nor daughter more.

“Catharine had fled some distance, but perceiving
that none of her friends followed, she
paused, and then as swiftly retraced her steps.
The savages were retreating, the house wrapped
in flames, and not a friend to be seen! O, George!
what must have been the mental anguish of that
poor girl! Shivering in the night air, from which
she was protected only by her linen tunic; appalled

by the yell of triumph which was reiterated
ed by the painted monsters, as they departed in
the full blaze of her burning mansion, and in total
ignorance as to the fate of her parents!

“While she stood aghast and horror-struck,
gazing on the maddening spectacle before her, a
deep groan issuing from within the barn (against
which she was now leaning) attracted her attention.
She immediately entered the building,
and by the light of the flames, which
shone through the expanded door, she recognised
her dying mother, weltering in her own blood!
Why did not the distressed girl's heart-strings
crack at such a sight? Because God always
gives strength equal to the task imposed.

“She raised her mother's head on her knees,
and endeavored to stanch the wound at which
her life's blood was issuing---it was all she could
do. “Speak to me, my dear mother, O, speak
to your poor Catharine!” she several times exclaimed.
Her mother opened her eyes, pressed
her daughter's hand, and then faintly asked for
her husband; but of his fate Catharine was also
ignorant. “Fly, and leave me, Catharine; the
flames will reach the barn.” “Then we will both
die together, my mother,” was the sweet angel's
reply---“there are no assassins in Heaven. The
Indians are gone, and I fear not the fire.” Such
was their situation, when we found them.

“M`Dougal and his wife were seized as they
issued from the house; she was struck on the
head with a hatchet, but her husband was fortunately
forced away too quickly to witness the
subsequent barbarities inflicted on the wife of his
bosom.

“Fleming has a sister, who emigrated to this
country with her family, some years before him

self, and who is now a widow, residing in the
village of Ithaca, in the state of New-York. Although
she married in Belfast, her husband was
an American, and owned several valuable estates
on the shores of Cayuga Lake. His name was
Woodcock; he has been dead about two years,
and has left one son to inherit the bulk of his fortune.
Mrs. Woodcock has repeatedly requested
her brother to permit Catharine to spend a summer
with her at Ithaca, urging that as there was
but one daughter in the family, her time ought to
be divided between the brother and sister. Mrs.
Fleming, however, could not endure the thought
of a separation from her daughter, and so the request
of the aunt has never been complied with.
But at Catharine's request, I have now written to
Mrs. Woodcock on the subject, and given a history
of our recent misfortunes; I have requested
her answer to be directed to me at Erie, to which
place I shall take her niece in a few days, as I
think a change of scene and air will contribute to
her restoration. As soon as I have settled my
business here, and procured a suitable lad to drive
my carriage, I shall depart; so, if you intend to
write soon, direct to that place, also, as I shall
spend several days there with our cousin Latamore.
[1] From Ithaca, I shall proceed to Boston,
and there reside, until the safety of these shores
is secured, either by victory or peace. Adieu.