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but, on reaching Deptford, the vessel was seizce by a custom house officer, brought back, and exchequered. This was a severe blow, but Ledyard
LIFE AND TRAVELS OF JOHN LEDYARD.
LEDYARD was an American. He was born at Groton, in Connecticut, in 1751. He was first designed for the law, a study which did not suit his romantic turn of mind; secondly, for a missionary among the Indians, which proved as uncongenial to his habits and dispositions. While prosecuting his theological studies at College, to relieve the tedium of the chapel and the lecture-rooms, he introduced the acting of plays, occasionally performing himself in a long gray beard. The missionary scheme was soon abandoned, and he made his escape from college in a canoe which he hollowed from the trunk of a tree; sailing alone, and dressed in a bear-skin, he reached home after performing a voyage of 140 miles on a dangerous river. His next profession was that of a common sailor on board a vessel bound for Gibraltar. Having hcard his grandfather speak of some wealthy relation in England, he resolved on a journey to London; and accordingly setting out from New York, he was landed at Plymouth without a shilling or a single acquaintance. In company with an Irishman as thoughtless and poor as himself, and agreeing to take their turns in begging along the road, he reached London, where he discovered the house of his rich relation. His story, however, was discredited, and himself treated as an impostor, which roused his indignation to such a pitch that he abruptly left the house, resolved never to return. Upon further inquiry his friend became satisfied of the truth of the connexion, and sent Ledyard a kind invitation, which he haughtily declined. He even rejected a sum of money which his relation, on hearing of his distressed situation, had sent; desiring the servant to tell his master that he belonged not to the race of the Ledyards. His next function was that of a corporal of marines, on board the ship of Captain Cook, then preparing for his third and last voyage round the world; in which capacity he made the tour of the globe. He was present at Cook’s death, and published a short narrative of the voyage. From a marine he was next converted into a fur-merchant, having his head full of romantic projects about a trading voyage to Nootka Sound. His main difficulty was in procuring a ship. He applied to various individuals in New York and Philadelphia, but all he got was a promise. Finding himself disappointed, and cursing the lack of enterprise among his own countrymen, he resolved to try his fortune in Europe. He visited Cadiz, Brest, L'Orient, and Paris, with no better success. At Paris he got acquainted with Paul Jones, an adventurer as enthusiastic as himself, and with Sir James Hall, who generously gavo him fifteen guineas, as he was now reduced to a sort of wandering vagabond, without employment, anotive, or means of support. His next plan was a journey, by land, through the northern regions of Europe and Asia, then to cross Behring's Straits to the continent of America. While waiting for the permission of the Empress of Russia, he received an invitation to London from Sir James Hall, who had procured him a free passage in an English ship, bound for the Pacific Ocean, and permission to be put on shore at any spot he chose on the northwest coast. Sii James, inoreover, gave him twenty guineas, with which Ledyard" bought two great dogs, an Indian pipe, and a hatchet,” the only companions of his journey. The happy moment seemed now arrived when he was to open to his blinded countrymen the path to unbounded wealth:
tour of the globe, (says he,) from London east ward, on foot."
A subscription was raised by Sir Joseph Banks, Sir James Hall, and others, by which means he got over to Hamburgh, which he reached, he tells us, “in perfect health, and with ten guineas exactly,” with which he had to traverse the vast continents of Europe and Asia. His ten guineas, however, were otherwise disposed of His host, at the tavern where he lodged, having informed him that a Major Langhorn, an American officer, and "a very good kind of man,” had left Hamburgh for Copenhagen, "with only one spare shirt, and very few other articles of clothing," Ledyard concluded that the man must necessarily be in distress; and, moreover, that a person in this situation was just suited to be the companion of his travels. The sympathy was irresistible. "I shall fly to him, (says he,) and lay my little all at his feet.” Accordingly, though it was the dead of winter, and Copenhagen several hundred miles out of his way, he set out on this charitable expedition. After a tedious journey through Sweden and Finland, hc reached the Danish capital, and discovered his countryman, the Major, shut up in his room, where he had been some time detained in captivity for want of money and a clean shirt. Ledyard's countenance glowed with joy as he disbursed the remains of his ten guineas into the palm of this needy adventurer. After staying a fortnight, he propounded to his friend the other grand object of his visit, viz. that the Major should accompany him to St. Petersburgh. The proposition met with an abrupt refusal. "No," was the reply; “1 esteem you, but no man on earth shall travel with me the way I do.” This dissolved the intended association; and Ledyard, having parted with his friend and his last shilling, set out alone for the Russian capital. The passage by sea being impracticable, he was obliged to perform a journey of twelve hundred miles, round the Gulf of Bothnia, which, in a direct line, did not exceed fifty. We cannot here follow him in his route from St. Petersburgh across the regions of snow and desolation which he traversed on his way to Okotsk. After many hardships and delays, he reached Irkutsk, where he was apprehended as a French spy, and put under arrest by an order from the Empress.' Accompanied by a guard of soldiers, he was conveyed back to the frontiers of Poland, u distance of six thousand versts, in six weeks! " Thank Heaven!” he exclaimed, as he approach ed the boundaries of civilized Europe,“ petticoats appear, and the glimmerings of other features. líere the soldiers sct him at liberty, giving him to understand that he might go where he pleased, only if he again returned to the dominions of the Em. press, he would certainly be hanged. He contriv. ed, by drawing on his friends, to reach London, where he was introduced to Mr. Beaufoy, Secretary to the African Association. In a short time he set out on a mission of discovery to that ill-fated country; and was among the first that fell a victim to the cause of African Geography. His plan was to proceed up the Nile as far as Senaar, and from thence to strike across the African continent to the coast of the Atlantic. He died, however, at Cairo, of a billious complaint, about the end of November, 1788, in the thirty-eighth year of his age.
DRIVING WILD CATTLE. There is a tract of country in the south-western part of Italy, which is called the Maremma. It is a flat, unhealthy region, particularly during the summer months, when all the inhabitants, who are able, remove from the place. There are no cottages or gardens to be seen scattered over the land; but here and there a dark, dismal-looking castle appears, which seems only to make the solitude more dreary.
The only stationary population in the Maremma consists of the cow and buffalo-keepers, and the forest rangers. The former are always mounted on horseback and armed with a lance, with which they keep in order the wild cows and fierce bulls, which are let to roam about these solitudes. These keepers lead a life of freedom and independence, like that of the Arabs of the desert. They are paid by yearly wages, besides which they generally rear up cattle of their own, which are allowed to feed with the rest.
These people retire in the summer months to the shady forests which line the seashore, and where the air is not so unwholesome as in the open plains. There, also, criminals escaped from the pursuits of justice take shelter, and are sometimes employed as wood rangers or buffalo drivers by the people of the neighboring farms. The above cut represents the mode of driving cattle to the towns. The animals are often so unruly, that their drivers are obliged to prick them with sharp-pointed lances, in order to keep them in subjection.
lie there to be starved. She said her sickness was so violent she could not possibly go further. He then took her up, and bade her try as well as she could, adding, it was not so very far for her to go. She followed him a little way, but unable to persevere, she left him, and laid herself down under the hedge again. She was soon covered with the snow, which was falling very thick. Thus she continued for nearly a week, her neighbors, meanwhile, making great inquiries after her: but no one could give any account except that one man; and he kept silent for fear of a suspicion falling upon him that he had made away with her.
During this surprise, a poor woman dreamed, (or rather pretended to have dreamed, the man having, probably, suggested to her this expedient to save his conscience and his neck,) that she lay under a hedge in such a place. Her neighbours immediately went to the place with sticks, which they forced through the snow; at last one of them thought he heard a groan: upon which he thrust his stick down with more force, which made the woman cry out, “Oh, for God's sake don't kill
She was taken out, to the astonishment of them all; and was found to have taken great part of her upper garment for sustenance. She told them she had lain very warm, and had slept most part of the time. One of her legs lay just under a bush, so that it was not quite covered with snow, by which it became almost mortified, but (says the contemporary narrator) it is like to do very well. She was very cheerful, and soon walked. She lay under the hedge at least seven days.
In February, 1799, a similar imprisonment in the snow, but attended, ultimately, with more fatal consequences, was the lot of Elizabeth Woodcock, aged 42, between Impington and Cambridge. She was riding from market, when her horse, frightened by a meteor, started; and, running backward, approached the brink of a ditch. She dismounted, and the horse ran from her. She overtook him, and continued leading him, till worn down with fatigue, and under the load of a heavy basket föll of her marketings, she addressed the horse: “Tinker, I am too tired to go any further, you must go home without me."
She sat herself down, and was soon covered with snow. Here, in a sort of cavern she was buried alive for eight days. On the morning after her first enclosure, she contrived to break off a stick
EXTRAORDINARY PRESERVATION OF LIFE
UNDER SNOW. The following event, which occurred during the Premarkably hard winter of 1708-9, is recorded on
the most unquestionable authority. A poor woman Jin Somersetshire, England, having been to a neigh
boring village to sell her yarn, in her return home sell so very ill that she was forced to take refuge in a small house by the way-side, and it being towards evening, she desired the people that they would let her sit by the fire during the night. This was denied. She left the house, and feeling very ill, laid herself down under a hedge. It snowed very hard; and in a little time she was almost covered by it. At last one of her neighbors came by, who asked her how she could be so mad as to
The Bushman "retains the ancient arms of the Hottentot raco; namely, a javelin, or assagai, similar to that of the Caffers, and a bow and arrows.
from the hedge, and tying her handkerchief to it, she thrust it through an opening in the snow. She was certainly sensible all the time, and overheard the conversation of some gypsies, but although she cried as loud as she could, they did not (as they declared) hear her. On the second Sunday, Joseph Muncey, a farmer, on his way home from Cambridge, was drawn to the place by the appearance of the hankerchief, and discovering who it was, went for help. A shepherd who came, said, “Are you there, Elizabeth Woodcock?” She replied, in a feeble, faint voice, “Dear John Stittle, I know your voice, for God's sake help me out." Stittle made his way through the snow; she eagerly grasped his hand and said, “I have been here a long time.” “Yes," answered he, “ since Sat
" Ay, Saturday week,” she replied, “I have heard the bells go two Sundays for church.”
She was then taken home, and a most fatal treatment was she subjected to. They gave her strong liquors, and applied poultices of stale beer and oatmeal boiled together. The direct contrary to which, under Providence, would have restored her. She lost her toes; and lingered on till the following July, when she died.
The following remarks deserve the serious attention of every one:—they appear to be founded on the soundest principles. «The application of heat to the human body, after intense cold, is attended with the most dreadful consequences; it always produces extreme pain, and, most frequently, either partial or general mortification of the parts to which the heat is applied. Instead, therefore, of allowing persons who have thus suffered from frost or snow to come near a fire, let the limbs be rubbed well with snow, or, if snow cannot be procured, let them be put into cold water, and afterwards rubbed with flannel for a considerable time. Let the person be kept most cautiously from taking too much or too nutritious food. Spirits also, or wine, should, under no pretence whatever, be given, without being weakened very much with water. Great attention must be paid to the state of the bowels. The use of opium and camphor is much to be recommended, though at first the opium should be given in very small portions.
The latter, which are his principal weapons, both for war and the chace, are small in size and formed of slight materials; but, owing to the deadly poison with which the arrows are imbued, and the dexterity with which they are launched, they are missiles truly formidable’ both to man and beast. One of these arrows, formed merely of a piece of slender reed tipped with bone or iron, is sufficient to destroy the most powerful animal. Nevertheless, although the colonists very much dread the effects of the Bushman's arrow, they know how to elude its range; and it is, after all, but a very unequal match for the firelock, as the persecuted natives, by sad experience, have found. The arrows are usually kept in a quiver formed of the hollow stalk of a species of aloe, and slung over the shoulder; but a few, for immediate use, are often stuck in a band round the head, in the manner represented in the cut.
THE WILD BUSHMAN. The Bushmen appear to be the remains of Hottentot hordes, originally subsisting, like all the aboriginal tribes of Southern Africa, chiefly by rearing cattle; but who have been driven, chiefly by the gradual encroachments of the European colonists, to seek for refuge among the inaccessible rocks and sterile deserts of the interior. Most of the hordes known in the colony by the name of Bushmen are now entirely destitute of flocks or herds, and subsist partly by the chase, partly on the wild roots of the wilderness, and, in times of scarcity, on reptiles, grasshoppers, and the larvæ of ants, or by plundering their hereditary foes and oppressors, the frontier boors. In seasons when every green herb is devoured by swarms of locusts, and the wild game, in consequence, desert the pastures of the wilderness, the Bushman finds a resource in the very calamity which would overwhelm an agricultural or civilized community. He lives by devouring the devourers; he subsists for weeks and months on locusts alone, and also preserves a stock of this food dried, as we do herrings or pilchards, for future consumption.
INFIDELITY. BY THE LATE ROBERT C. SANDS. Thon who scornest truths divine, Say what joy, what hope is thine ? Is ihy soul from sorrow free? Is this world enough for thee ? No; for care corrodes thy heart. Art thou willing to depart? No; thy nature bids thee shrink From the void abyss's brink. Thou mayst laugh, in broad sunshine ; Scoff, when sparkles the red wine ; Thou must tremble, when deep night Shuts the pageants from thy sight. Morning comes, and thou blasphemest; Yet another day thou deemest Thine ; but soon its light will wane ; Then thy warning comes again. There's a morrow with no nightBroad and blazing, endless light! Should its dawn thy dreams o'ertake, Better thou didst never wake!
CANALS OF NEW YORK. New York surpasses every state in the Union for canals. The great Erie and Hudson Canal, from Albany to Buffalo was begun in 1817, and finished in 1825, at the cost of above 9 millions of dollars. It is 363 miles long, 40 feet wide and four feet deep. Beginning at Albany on the Hudson, it passes up the west bank of the river nearly to the mouth of the Mohawk; thence along the Mohawk to Schenectady, crossing the river twice by aqueducts. From Schenectady, it follows the southern bank of the Mohawk to Rome, approaching so near the river in some places, as to require embankments to support it; one of these at Amsterdam village is 5 or 6 miles in length. What is called the Long Level, or a distance of 694 miles without any intervening lock, begins at Frankfort, 3 miles east of Utica, and terminates near Syracuse. From this place, the canal proceeds 35 miles to Montezuma, on the eastern border of the Cayuga marshes; these are three miles in extent. From hence to the great embankment which is 72 feet high, and nearly two miles in length, is a distance of 52 miles. Eight miles farther begins the Genesee level, which extends west to Lockport 65 miles; 7 miles from this place to Pendleton village, the canal enters Tonnewanta Creek, which it follows 12 miles, and then passing up the east shore of Niagara river, joins Lake Erie at Buffalo.
In the whole length of the canal, are 83 locks and 18 aqueducts. The locks are built in the most durable manner, of stone laid in water-lime, and are each 90 feet long and 15 wide. Lake Erie is 565 feet above the Hudson at Albany, and the whole rise and fall of lockage on the canal is 688 feet. One of the aqueducts crosses the Genesee river at Rochester, and is 804 feet in length. Another aqueduct crosses the Mohawk at Little Falls, on three arches of 50 and 70 feet span; two others cross the same river, one 748 feet and the other
1188 feet in length. The sides of the canal are sometimes paved with stone, and sometimes covered with thick grass to hinder the soil from washing away. A tow path four feet above the surface of the water, and 10 feet wide, runs the whole length of the canal. A number of side cuts branch off from the canal to different places; one of these, from Syracuse to Oswego, is 38 miles long ; another from Montezuma to Cayuga and Seneca Lake, 20 iniles.
The canal boats for the conveyance of passengers, are generally 80 feet in length, and 14 in width, drawing from one to two feet of water. The cabin occupies nearly the whole length of the deck, and is 8 feet in height, with single berths on each side for 30 persons. They are drawn by three horses, and proceed day and night four miles an hour ; relays are furnished every 8 or 10 miles. Boats with merchandise go about 55 miles in 24 hours; the passage boats make, including delays, 85 miles progress in the same time. The navigation upon this great canal is prodigious, and the work does honor to the sagacity and enterprise of those who planned it. The number of canal boats that arrived at, and departed from Aibany, during 1830, was 12,830, conveying more than 100,000 tons of merchandise paying toll by weight, besides an immense amount of lumber, wood, &c. The tolls in the same year amounted to 954,328 dollars
The Northern Canal joins the waters of Lake Champlain with those of the Hudson ; it is 63 miles long, and cost 875,000 dollars.
The Delaware and Hudson Canal was begun in 1825, and completed in 1828; it is 108 miles long, and extends from the tide water on the Hudson to port Jervis on the Delaware ; thence up the Delaware and Lackawaxen rivers in Pennsylvania, to Honesdale. A rail road extends the communication from the canal to the Lackawanna valley.-Goodrich's Universal Geography.
cut, which nearly laid open one side of his head He now became quite furious, roared like a buffalo, and with the blood streaming down his face appeared more like a demon than a human being. I thought to fly, but in the attempt he seized the skirt of my coat, and I was obliged once more to give him another wound across the left hand, which obliged him to drop the knife; a desperate struggle then followed for the dagger, which, from his great strength, he must have wrested from me, had not the noise occasioned by his bellowing, and my cries for assistance, brought Mr. Montour and some of the men into the room. With much difficulty they succeeded in binding him hand and foot, and lodging him in the guard-room. He tore off the dressings that were applied to his wounds, refused every assistance, and the greater part of the night was spent in wild yells and ferocious threats against me.
Nature at last became exhausted, and he fell asleep, in which state his wounds were dressed. None of them were dangerous. Between the loss of blood and a long fast he became quite cool on the following day, and when told of what had occurred he could scarcely believe it, cursed the rum as the cause, and made a solemn promise never again to drink to intoxication. At the end of a couple of days I interceded and had him liberated. He appeared most grateful, acknowledged that he deserved what he got, expressed his surprise that I did not kill him, and declared if he ever heard a man say a bad word of me for wounding him he would knock him down. I believe his regret was sincere, and from that period until the following year, when I quitted the Columbia, I never saw him in a state of inebriety."
SCENES AMONG THE INDIANS. The 'following description is from a work entitled, Adventures on the Columbia River, &c. By Ross Cox.” It furnishes a forcible example of the effects of intoxication. The author states that there are three descriptions of men in the service of the Fur Company. First come the white Canadians; and, secondly, the half-breeds, which race is now numerous throughout the Indian country.
“The third description of men in the Company's service are the Iroquois, Nipisings, and others of the native tribes of Canada. These Indians have been all nearly reclaimed from their original state of barbarism, and now profess the Roman Catholic religion. They engage for limited periods in the Company's service as canoe-men and hunters, but on lower terma chan are usually allowed to the French Canadians. They are strong, ablebodied men, good hunters, and well acquainted with the management of canoes. They are immoderately attached to the use of ardent spirits; are rather quarrelsome, revengeful, and sometimes insubordinate; and during their periods of intoxication the utmost prudence and firmness are necessary to check their ferocious propensities, and confine them within proper bounds. They are generally employed on the east side of the mountains, but we had a few of them on the Columbia. One, named George Teewhattahownie, was a powerful man about six feet high. On one occasion, during our voyage to the sea, we had a stiff breeze, and George, who was foreman of my canoe, kept up a heavy press of sail. I requested him repeatedly to take in a réef, and pointed out the danger to which we were exposed in the event of an accident. He appeared to pay no attention to my request, and I was at length obliged to use peremptory and threatening language, which produced a forced and sulky obedience. A few days after our arrival at Fort George he came into my room in a state of intoxication, and ungovernable rage, with a vessel containing rum in his left hand, and in his right his hunting-krife ; in short, his whole appearance was wild and savage, and I at once guessed his visit was not of a friendly nature. His opening speech realized my suspicions."
Cox, you toad, prepare for death! you abused me, and I must have my revenge.'
«• You're not sober, George; go sleep awhile, and we'll talk on this subject to-mcrrow.
"No; you insulted me before the men, and I must have satisfaction; but as you're a young man, I will now only take one of your ears!'
“I became a little easy on finding he had lowered his demands; but as I had an equal affection for both lugs, and as 'the prejudice ran in favor of two,' I had no wish, like Jack Absolute, to affect singularity in that respect. After some further parley, and finding he was determined to try his knife on my auricular cartilages, I told him to retire, or I should be obliged to order him into confinement. "Ha! crapaud !' said he, do you threaten Teewhattahownie?' and at the same instapt he rushed on me like a grisly bear. I was now forced to draw my dagger in self-defence, and in parrying off his thrust gave him a severe wound across the fingers of the right hand. He dropped the knife, but instantly seized it with the left hand, and at the same time attempted to catch me, which I avoided by running under his arm, and as he turned round was compelled to give him a severe
It is a
A FEARFUL ADVENTURE. The fierce brigands of Calabria are notorious for the audacity of their deeds. Desirous of a little more accurate information on the character of the outlaws of this part of Italy, we turned to the letters of Paul Louis Courier, whose works are little known in this country. Our readers may be interested by the following little story, which we translate for their edification. The author is writ ing to his female cousin.
"I was one day travelling in Calabria. country of wicked people, who, I believe, have no great liking to any body, and are particularly illdisposed towards the French. To tell you why would be a long affair. It is enough that they hate us to death, and that the unhappy being who should chance to fall into their hands would not pass his time in the most agreeable manner.
I had for my companion a fine young fellow. I do not say this to interest you—but because it is the truth.
In these mountains the roads are precipices, and our horses got on with the greatest difficulty. My comrade going first, a track, which appeared to him more practicable and shorter than the regular path, led us astray. It was my fault. Ought I to have trusted to a head of twenty years? We sought our way out of the wood while it' was yet light; but the more we looked for the path the farther we were off it.
It was a very black night, when we came close upon a very black house. We went in, and not_without suspicion. But what was to be done? There we found a whole family of charcoal burners at table. At the first word they invited us to join them. My young man did not stop for much ceremony. In a minute or two we were eat