bled, he surrendered at discretion. Many of those who had not the good fortune to be killed in the fort were carried out and subjected to the most barbarous and inhuman cruelties. The tories in this business were not behind the Indians. Finding the process of murder in detail somewhat tedious, the women and children were shut up in houses and barracks; these were then set on fire and the whole consumed together. The unhappy victims while the fires were kindling rent the air with the most pitious cries. Venerable age and tender youth were involved in one general ruin. The voices of the devoted people as the devouring element increased, were changed from lamentations to groans and shrieks of extreme torture and agony.

The enemy now passed the river for the purpose of gaining possession of fort Wilkesbarree. This was occupied by an inconsiderable force, altogether insufficient to maintain a successful opposition. No sooner had the summons to surrender been given than the garrison marched out and threw themselves on the mercy of the victors, hoping for their protection and clemency. In this, however, they were disappointed. The tragic scene at Kingston was re-acted with additional horrors. The soldiers of the garrison became the objects of marked vengeance. The ingenuity of the conquerors was exhausted in devising the most exquisite torture. They were all put to death with circumstances of wanton cruelty. What rendered this act of atrocity doubly remarkable was, that the soldiers did not belong to the settlement, but had been employed merely to guard the frontiers. The women and children there as at Kingston, were inclosed in buildings and burnt, while the ferocious victors listened to their cries with satisfaction and delight.— Some of the officers were spared from the general conflagration; regarding them as persons of greater consideration, they were reserved for more marked attentions. Capt. Bedlock was stripped of his clothes and his flesh filled with splinters of pitch pine; a pile of the same materials was then placed around him and set on fire.— While the process of roasting was going on, two other captains, Durkee and Ranson, were caught by these monsters, thrown alive into the same fire, and held down with pitchforks.

In some instances the tories fell on members of their own families who had espoused the cause of Independence, and exercised on them the greatest cruelties. One Partial Terry, whose family was respectable, had sent repeated messages to his father, saying that he hoped one day to wash his hands in his heart's blood. His

wishes were too truly answered. The infuriate demon, after having murdered and scalped his own mother, brothers and sisters, cut off the head of his father. Thomas Hill killed his mother, his father in law, his sisters and their whole families. Other acts of similar enormity were committed. Nothing could allay their fury. Every feeling of humanity was extinct. The ties of relationship instead of affording protection and security, seemed to invite to the perpetration of acts, at which, human nature in the lowest state of depravity shudders.

The annals of Indian warfare do not record transactions of more unnatural wickedness than those perpetrated by the tory refugees. After having committed unprecedented barbarities upon the wretched inhabitants, a scene of general devastation was spread through the whole settlement. Buildings were burnt, fields of grain laid waste, and every object of human industry levelled with the ground. Fire and sword were alternately applied for the purposes of universal destruction. In the general carnage and devastation every where marking their progress, they did not even omit the lower orders of creation. The tories, as if dissatisfied with the little pastime they had enjoyed in massacre ing and burning two or three hundred innocent women and children, cut out the tongues of some of the cattle, and to prolong their agonies left them alive to die of hunger. Others were shot or driven off.

Many women and children escaped into the woods and met with a fortune not much less severe than those who had been consigned to the flames. Some wandered too far into the depths of the forest and fell victims to hunger; others, overwhelmed with grief from the loss of friends and the desolation of every object of affection, sickened and died. Mothers with tender infants in their arms, were found dead. Even the small number hunger and disease had spared, were picked up by the Indians and subjected to the most barbarous torture. Few escaped the fury of the unrelenting enemy. Man and his works shared the same fate. Ruin and desolation appeared on every hand. The voices of those who a few days before were cheerful and happy were now silenced in death. Scarce a mourner was left to go about the streets. All was deso

late.

B

HISTORY OF THE COUNTY OF WORCESTER.

GEOGRAPHICAL DESCRIPTION.

BOUNDARIES AND EXTENT.-The County of Worcester, one of the. Western Counties of Massachusetts, is bounded on the North by the State of New Hampshire, on the East by the Counties of Middlesex and Norfolk, on the South by the States of Rhode Island and Connecticut, and on the West by the Counties of Hampden, Hampshire and Franklin. Thus it extends the whole width of the State. Its length is fifty miles from North to South, and its average breadth about thirty six miles. It contains about eighteen hundred square miles, or upwards of a million of acres, exhibiting a surface of three hundred square miles, greater than that of the intire State of Rhode Island, in its vicinity.

FACE OF THE COUNTRY.-The surface of this County is generally undulating, rising into hills of gradual swell, forming what in the Western States is called a rolling country, interspersed, however, with a pleasing variety of delightful vallies, exhibiting the most luxuriant fertility. Pine plains seldom occur, and are of very limited extent. No part of the territory exhibits any of those vast plains or savannahs, which form so interesting features of American Geography. Many of our towns, however, furnish extensive tracts of the most beautiful alluvial lands, upon the margins of the rivers, and which are here appropriately styled "intervals." With the exception of some of these interval lands, the whole region, but little more than a century since was covered with a dense forest of all the various trees peculiar to New England. Most of the hills are of comparatively moderate height, and admit of cultivation to their summits. This however is subject to many exceptions. Grass is the principal product of the highlands, for which they are peculiarly adapted. The pastures, particularly, are rich and luxuriant, insomuch that they have recently received from high authority the appellation of "the Paradise of New England for horned cattle." The hills are usually moist to their summits, so that water can be obtained upon them at a less depth than in the vallies. Most of them are too cold and rocky to yield grain to a great profit, otherwise than as a crop preparatory to grass. Few farmers, however, but possess vallies, plains or high intervals sufficient to produce bread stuff for the supply of his family and cattle. In all parts of New England, grazing farms yield the greatest net profit. So generally are the hills interspersed that it is be

lieved, they are incapable of being classified into distinct ranges. There is one range however, running from the Northeast to nearly the Southwest corner of the County, and constitutes the highlands that separate the waters emptying into the Connecticut river, from those that fall into the Merrimack, the Thames, the Pa tucket, and the Charles. This is a part of the White Mountain range. These hills may be traced through the towns of Ashburnham, Westminster, Princeton, Rutland, Oakham, Brookfield, Western and Sturbridge. But one of these elevations is dignified by the appellation of Mountain, to wit, the "Wachusett," in Princeton. This majestic pile rising to an elevation of about 3,000 feet above the level of the sea, and about 1,000 feet above the surrounding heights, will be more particularly noticed in the description of the town, where it is situated. This mountain is described by that learned and indefatigable tourist, the late President Dwight, as lying east of the White Mountain range, disconnected with any chain of hills, as a detached or solitary mountain. And in this, he has been cited, as authority by other eminent Geographers. But although we would not hastily nor irreverently controvert evidence of such high character-yet the courses of the rivers certainly show the fact to be otherwise. The White Mountain range, runs generally northeasterly, from the lower part of Connecticut river, thence northerly, bearing the name of "Lyme range," until it intersects the Mount Tom range, when its course is northeasterly, crossing the Monadnock, thence to the White Mountains, and thence keeping the same course to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Now the "Wachusett," and the hills connected with it are on this course, and may be distinctly traced. Mount Toby in Sunderland is too far removed from the line to belong to the range even as a spur, and if not a continuation of the Mount Tom range must be classed as a detached mountain.

LAKES AND RIVERS.-This extensive County, although as well supplied with springs, rivulets and larger streams, adapted to all the conveniences of agricultural and domestic economy, and to all the various purposes of manufactures, as any part of the Globe, is yet entirely destitute of any navigable waters. Of all our various townships, there is scarcely one but contains one or more beautiful sheets of water or Lakes. These cover surfaces of various extent, from the smallest size to ten or fifteen hundred acres. It is believed their whole number will exceed one hundred. They will be particularly noticed in their respective towns. They generally

sustain the homely appellation of "Ponds." This name is strictly applicable to small collections of standing water that have no outlet or emitting stream. In this sense, it is believed the word is used in Europe and in all the States south of Massachusetts. Collections of water like ours are uniformly called Lakes. They are here generally fed by subjacent springs, and scarcely any have not a beautiful outlet at all seasons of the year. Their waters of course are pure and limpid, and their surfaces are rarely defaced by noxious weeds. They are generally surrounded by a tract of country of varied elegance, and the delight with which they strike the eye of a traveller or of a spectator from the neighboring hills, cannot easily be described. The breezes wafted from them are pure and salubrious, and the neighboring inhabitants are not subject to those diseases that are so often the scourge of other regions in the vicinity of standing water. These remarks perhaps will apply to nearly all the lakes in the interior of New England. Their waters are generally stored with fish, and in the summer season, are often the resort of parties of pleasure. Many of the Lakes of this County are ornamented with margins of great fertility, not usual in other parts of the country.

RIVERS. No streams of great magnitude are found in this County, but the fountains that supply the most majestic rivers of New England, are embosomed among our hills.-Of those that run Westerly and fall into the Connecticut, the most noted are Miller's, Ware, and Chickopee Rivers. The first, called by the natives Payquage, has its principal source from a large pond in Winchendon, lying principally in the State of New Hampshire. Another source is from a pond in Ashburnham called Naukheag.— These with other smaller streams, unite in the northeasterly part of Winchendon, and there take the name of Miller's river. The waters of Gardner, Winchendon, Athol, and Royalston fall into this stream, together with a portion of those from Ashburnham, Templeton, Phillipston, and Westminster. Miller's river is broad and deep, and its rapids furnish many valuable mill seats. It empties into the Connecticut between Northfield and Montague, in the County of Franklin.

2d. Ware River has one of its head waters in a pond in Phillipston, and passing through Templeton, Hubbardston, and Barre, where it receives large additional supplies of water, it passes westerly and becomes the boundary line between Hardwick and New Braintree. Then leaving the County and passing through the town