triotic officer. I love to take every occasion to rescue his name from those aspersions. Knowing his worth and venerating his memory, I take pleasure to vindicate his character and to speak his just praise. Col. Denison surrendered on terms of capitulation, considering the circumstances in which he was placed, honourable to his character as an officer; above all, shielding and protecting the women and children—all who were in the fort, from violence.* Perhaps higher powers a more consummate prudence-equal boldness and self-possession, are necessary to save the remnants of a people so situated, than to lead successfully in battle. Marshall, in his late edition, has corrected the error, and given a more correct account of the transaction. The universal respect and confidence that attended Col. Denison, from the battle to the time of his death, attest the high estimation in which his character was held among the inhabitants of Wyoming, who were witnesses of, and affected by, his conduct.

"When the jurisdiction of Connecticut ceased, and the laws of Pennsylvania became supreme in Wyoming, Col. Denison was appointed from policy, as being a favourite of the people, in whom they had entire confidence, one of the associate judges of the court. Four were commissioned: Denison and Gore-selected as being partial to the Yankee interest; Fell and Hollenback-one a Pennsylvania Quaker, the other a Virginian-were preferred as having the confidence, in a peculiar degree, of the other party. A man of good sense and stern integrity-the selection was made with great wisdom and propriety."

"Do you remember Wyoming so long ago as to be able to recall the court to recollection, when all four of the judges were on the bench?"

"O, yes-perfectly: I see them now. Courts were held in the chamber of what was the old academy, the jail being below. Behold Sheriff Colt with his white staff in advance-see that short, fat, somewhat aged, but active man, with a smart cocked hat, coming up.-Look again: they are arranged on the bench. The President of the Court, Judge RUSH, in the centre; on his right Judges Denison and Gore-on his left, Judges Hollenback and Fell. Dignity and decorum mark their appearance and proceedings, so far as it was possible to restrain the impetuosity, the wit, or mischief of a numerous bar of highly talented, but somewhat ungovernable lawyers. Judge Denison, though cheerful in the social circle, never laughed and seldom smiled. His looks were grave, but pleasing-not sad, but extremely sedate. Such was the character of all his deportment. His judgment was sound, as his heart was pure; but there was nothing showy about him-no attempt at effect-but all reposed in him, because his integrity was undoubted, while his good sense and intelligence inspired unlimited confidence.

"The president judge with a slight cast in his eye, that gave a peculiar but not unpleasant expression to his countenance, had a look full of intelligence, quickness and sagacity:Are you ready, gentlemen, on the part of the defendant? How clear his voice, how distinct his enunciation! To the grand jury his charges were models of purity of style, soundness of sentiment, and impressiveness of delivery. But look at the bar-there is Lawyer Dick, a thick, stout set gentleman of five and thirty. Wit, humour, sarcasm, playing about his round face. He comes out in thunder-he sets the court in a roar of laughter, and having thrown them off their guard, by a few powerful but pertinent remarks, drives his cause home, and wins it, if possible to be won.-That tall, delicate looking gentleman, so neatly, I might say, elegantly dressed, is DAN SMITH, of Northumberland. See! he turns pale and actually trembles as he rises to speak: you are interested by such exceeding modesty, and half fear he will not be able to go on. Fear nothing. What grace-how sweetly his voice breaks on the ear-what words of persuasive wisdom begin to flow-and now, pour along in a rapid torrent. Ah! that is eloquence. Just such a man, were I a girl of twenty, methinks, I should fall in love with-were he ten or fifteen years younger.-Observe that heavy stout gentleman, with large head and florid complexion: Stop-he is about to speak. How rapid

* After the surrender, there was but one life lost in the fort. It is important that this matter be rightly comprehended. Teh execution of Boyd was the only instance of life being taken, after the capitulation, until Col. John Butler left Wyoming with his army. THEN began scenes of murder and conflagration, by bands of marauding Indians, whom he averred he could not control.

his delivery-the words crowd so, one upon the other, they sometimes choke utterance: then the stream flows again. He talks good sense. Why shouldn't he? His head has more law in it than half a modern library."

"Who is he?"

"It is EVAN RICE EVANS, a powerful advocate with a good fee and an intricate cause. This very handsome man on the left is CHARLES HALL, of Sunbury. His dress is rich-how neatly his ruffle is plaited! Slow, distinct, and very pleasant in speaking, he prepares with care, and argues his cause with excellent skill. But here is the distinguished THOMAS COOPER going to speak in a criminal cause. Short, round, stooping forward-his head nodding as if too full of matter to hold still-a florid and right English countenance and complexion."

"Will he speak long?"

"Not he. His forte is to seize two or three strong points and present them forcibly to the court and jury. He never wearies by long speeches: never uses a word, an illustration, or an argument that is not to the purpose. A man of extraordinary endowments-of most distinguished genius: But there rises an answerer to Mr. Cooper. Observe that tall-raw, I had almost said-and awkward man; how he scratches his head-depend on it there is something in it. How high he pitches his voice: how loud he speaks: how plain, unselected, almost coarse in his language. Yet is there matter in him."

"But who is he?"

"That is JOHN Ross, of Easton. He has not a particle of grace, but he is indefatigable: his dress, though good, is awkwardly put on ; what does he care? the law is his study-the practice his delight. He mingles freely with all classes, high and low, and has a thorough knowledge of human nature. Hence he is a most successful jury lawyer: and not only remarkable, but renowned, in all the courts he practices in, for his technical accuracy in drawing indictments, and his almost irresistible ingenuity in pulling them to pieces, when drawn by another." "You amuse me with these sketches of the old bar. Can't you give us a portrait of Sitgreaves, Dan Levy, Duncan, Charles Houston, Bowman, Wells, Griffin, Dyer, Catlin and Palmer?"

"Stop-stop-you are cutting out too much work for one afternoon." "Yes, I could give you a characteristic trait or two of each; but not now. Besides, it was not my purpose to speak, at present, of any of the Luzerne lawyers. Of all these, as time, opportunity, and humour shall prompt. Soon after the establishment of peace, Judge Denison returned to Stonington, Connecticut, and with filial piety brought out his aged father to reside with him. The old gentleman survived until 1803, and then was gathered to his native earth, aged 88 years.

"Col. Denison departed this life January 25th, 1809, aged 68 years.

"His piety was ardent. The sweet influences of religious faith and hope chastened and elevated to saint-like purity his naturally amiable disposition. One of his sons, now no more, was several years a representative from Luzerne in the Assembly, and afterwards in Congress, in both of which stations he served with distinguished ability. It is conceded that to Mr. George Denison, with Judge Scott and Judge Mallery, we owe, in a great degree, all that is beneficial in our system of internal improvement, especially as regards northern Pennsylvania:But yonder is the monument."

NO. X.

LUKE SWEETLAND.

STRANGERS who visit Wyoming, besides having in view a visit to the monument, the battle ground and bloody rock, should cross the bridge and pass up through Kingston for the pleasure of the ride. The road, or rather noble avenue, for five miles, is an hundred feet wide, showing that the minds of the early settlers were

graduated on no narrow scale. The Kingston gentlemen (thanks probably to their ladies), have displayed a much greater degree of taste in their buildings, the improvement of their grounds, and in ornamental shrubbery around their dwellings, than their neighbours. A companion, quick to hear, intelligent to relate, and with sufficient tact not to annoy by talking too much, would add to the pleasure of the jaunt. From among fifty elegant country seats, one on the left, half a mile after passing Col. Denison's, would immediately attract admiration and elicit praise. It is the residence of William Sweetland, Esq. For many years an enterprising merchant, wealth has flowed into his coffers as if they were its natural deposit. Besides the embellishment around his mansion, his having brought in pipes from the mountain more than a mile, water from a spring, that he might have a cool and gushing stream at his door, shows that he has the right spirit to render home an agreeable place. His mills within the ravine of the mountain, and several farms with white cottages further up upon the hills, tell at once of taste, enterprise, and true economy.

Mr. Sweetland was one of the delegates to form the present constitution; and, if inclination had led him, might have entered into public life in any station he should have chosen.

This is another pleasant instance of prosperity, among descendants from early Wyoming settlers who were doomed to dreadful suffering.

Luke Sweetland, the grandfather, bore arms in defence of Wyoming, although it is not certainly known whether he was in the battle. Immediately after the expulsion, he, with twenty-five or thirty others of the inhabitants, united together and joined (not enlisted) the company of Capt. Spalding. The fact is shown by the receipt they gave to Col. Butler for continental arms, issued to them at Port Penn. Their aid thus strengthening Spalding's company enabled him earlier to march to Wilkesbarre and arrest the depredations of the Indians. Mr. Sweetland was taken prisoner with Joseph Blanchard, near Nanticoke, where they had gone to mill, (this was August 24, 1778,) and were carried by the savages to their country, near Geneva Lake. Besides the constant dread of torture, his sufferings from cold and want of food during the winter were intense. A man of ardent piety, the confidence and hope imparted by religion sustained him. To trace his weary days of captivity would be but a repetition of ever-recurring sorrows. After having failed in several attempts to escape, he was at length rescued by our army under Gen. Sullivan. Returning to his native Connecticut, he had a narrative of his captivity and sufferings printed at Hartford, which is in the possession of the writer. In later days I knew, and knowing, could not but esteem the good old man. His taste and pride took a right direction, and were of much value to the settlement; I refer to his establishment of a nursery for fruit, and his introduction from New England of various kinds of apples, selected with care. It is long since he was withdrawn from life. The contrast between the sufferings of the grandsire and the prosperity of his descendant, leads to agreeable reflections. I cannot close this very brief notice, without a passing tribute to the memory of William Sweetland and Belding Sweetland, sons of the old gentleman, who in early life were the attached, the respected friends of the writer. Though in a position remarkable for general health they were both taken away in the midday of activity and usefulPeace to those who have departed; prosperity and honour to the living!

ness.

NO. XI.

CAPT. M'KERACHAN.

CAPT. WILLIAM M'KERACHAN was the first officer of the Hanover company. Evincing at once a spirit of singular modesty and patriotism, he said to Capt. Stewart, on the morning of the battle: "My pursuits in life have thus far been those of peace; you have been used to war and accustomed to command. On parade I can manœuvre my men ; but in the field no unnecessary hazard should be run;

a mistake might prove fatal. Take you the lead, I will fight under you, with my men, as an aid, or a private in the ranks. Your presence at the head of the Hanover boys will impart confidence." So it was arranged, and they fell together. Mr. M'Kerachan was a native of Ireland. Not classically, but well educated, he left Belfast, county Antrim, in the summer of 1764, then a young man, to seek his fortune in America. Landing in Philadelphia, he passed into Chester county, and taught school in Nantmel, for a season; from thence he went to Bucks county. There, and in New Jersey, he spent a year or two, occupied in the honourable profession of a schoolmaster. As early as 1774, the romance of the Wyoming contest attracted and pleased his ardent imagination, and he became a settler at Nanticoke, Hanover township. After instructing children a brief period, scenes of wider scope and more commanding interest engaged his attention. Having accumulated by industry and economy sufficent funds, he set up a store, and purchased lands. Among his papers recently found, are a number of deeds for valuable tracts, showing that he had become a very respectable landed proprietor. In his memorandum book are several passages, indicative of his studies, knowledge and character. Mathematical problems, some of them belonging to navigation, show that that branch of science was familiar to him. An entry, made June 24, 1768, would indicate that serious subjects occupied his thoughts, and that he was of the Presbyterian persuasion. "The Saturday before the sacrament, Mr. Foster had his text in Matthew the 12th chapter 42d verse. The sacrament morning Mr. Carmichael had his text in the 12th chapter and 3d verse of Isaiah.

"The evening sermon by Mr. Foster.-Text, 6th chapter and 11th verse of the Ephesians."

That he was not only esteemed in his immediate neighbourhood, but by the community at large, is shown by his commission from the authorities in Connecticut, as a magistrate in Westmoreland, and one of the judges of the court.

Several stanzas of poetry are in his hand-writing. Whether original or copied, it is impossible for us to determine. If his own, they show talent; if selected, they certainly display taste, though they may sound old fashioned:

Το

"Now let my cares all buried lie,

My griefs be ever dumb;

Your sorrows swell my heart so high

They leave my own no room."

Were we sure the poetry was his own, we would copy the preceding four verses, which have some pretty lines of thought. But though desiring to give as perfect a picture as possible of Wyoming and its distinguished men, we must not swell our volume too much by extraneous matter, however interesting. He was tall, had a fine person—an alert step-a cheerful disposition, and a countenance pleasingly expressive.

He fell, as the reader is apprized, on the 3d of July, 1778, in the Indian battle. Farewell to the brave, the generous, the true-hearted Irishman. Gentle sleep and a happy resurrection to his manly spirit, who, in the midst of gathering honours and accumulating prosperity, in the very prime of manhood, laid down his life for Wyoming!

NO. XII.

MR. SAMUEL CAREY.

WHILE Our minds are on the opposite side of the river, at Jacob's Plains, as the upper part of Wilkesbarre is termed, sketching a brief outline of the Abbott'sthe Searle's-and the Williams', who reside there, methinks I may as well fulfil a promise previously made, and give you some account of the family of CAREY, their neighbours; a name which stands conspicuous on the list of those patriots who served and suffered at Wyoming, in the cause of liberty and their country.

Mr. Samuel Carey is now 79 years old; of course he was 19 in 1778, the year of the battle. Active, ardent and patriotic, he was enrolled in Captain Bidlack's company-was out on several scouting parties before the invasion-was up at Wyalusing, and with our men at Exeter, aiding to bring away the remains of the Hardings and others, murdered by the Indians a day or two before the battle. On the fatal third he was at his post, and marched with the brave Bidlack to the contest. Their position was near the right. The left wing was earliest pressed and retreated, being thrown into entire confusion before the centre or right gave way; but retreat had become inevitable. Mr. C. left the road and passed down on the low flats near where the monument is now being erected; Zipperah Hibberd was nearest to him. Hibberd was in the prime of early manhood, six feet high, built at once for strength and activity; he was straight as an arrow, and moved with a light elastic step. Of him it is told by several of the old settlers, that in their athletic sports Hibberd would take off his hat and shoes-let two companions hold a string extended so that, in walking under it, he could just touch it with his head: he would then step off a few paces till he got his proper distance, return on the spring, and leap over the string with the alertness of the bounding deer. His activity, and manly and social qualities, rendered him a general favourite. Mr. Hibberd was but recently married. Preparations for the engagement had been made the day previous. Fear was a stranger to his breast; but he was sensible and sagacious, and he saw from the unprepared state of our people, enfeebled by the two companies, raised for our special defence, being marched and kept away, and from the evidence of great force on the part of the enemy, that the chances were all against us. Perhaps, and it is thought there was a particular presentiment, that go the battle as it would, he should not survive. But listening to nothing but the dictates of patriotism and duty, he fitted himself for the field-went to the door-looked abroad to the bright heavens and the beautiful earth, then clothed in the rich robe of approaching harvest-gazed a moment-rested his gun against the door-post-hastened into the house and impressed one parting kiss on the pale lips of his trembling bride-spoke not a word, but tore himself away; and the next hour there was not a soldier that marched to the field with more cheerful alacrity. He went to return no more.

Hibberd and Carey ran together towards the river, Hibberd in advance, breaking a path through a heavy piece of rye. The obstruction, perhaps, proved fatal to him; for by the time they got through he was nearly exhausted, and showed signs of great fatigue. On coming near the river bank and leaving the rye field, Mr. Hibberd sprang to the sandbar, but was closely pursued by an Indian, who overtook him before he could gain the stream. As Hibberd turned to defend himself he received the accursed spear in his breast, and fell lifeless on the sand. Mr. Carey got to the river lower down, and succeeded in swimming across, but the savages had crossed over before him, and he was instantly surrounded by several. One who seemed to have authority took charge of him, but a small Indian, pitted with the small-pox, and having lost an eye, (as he stood naked, for Mr. C. had stripped off all his clothes that he might swim,) with a malicious smile, drew a knife up and down his breast and abdomen, about an inch from the skin, saying the while, "Te-te-te-te." They then made him swim back, bound his hands, and he was conducted to Wintermoot's. The fort had been set on fire by the enemy at the commencement of the engagement, and Mr. C. saw the remains of one or two of our people, who had been thrown on the burning pile, but they were then lifeless. That night he lay on the ground, bound, and without food. The next morning an officer struck him on the mouth with his open hand. "You are the fellow," said he, "that threatened yesterday moming you would comb my hair, are you?" He then learned that the Indian who had taken him was Capt. Roland Montour, who now gave him food, unbound, and led him to a young savage who was mortally wounded. What passed he could not then perfectly comprehend, but afterwards learned the purpose was to show him to the dying Indian, and ask if his life should be preserved and he be taken to the Indian's parents to be adopted instead of their lost son. He assented, and young Carey's life was saved. They then painted him, and gave him the name of the dying Indian-Coconeunquo-of the tribe of Onondagoes.