Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

THE

Worcester Talisman.

NO. 4.

ORIGINAL TALE.

PEQUASSETT.

[blocks in formation]

ed as the summer dew flies before the burning sun, and the smoke which now rises over the forest, is wafting her home to the Great SpirOn the morning succeeding the bloody con- it. She shall chase the deer no more, nor flict with the Aborigines, and the conflagration bring back the barbed arrow to Pequassett's of their fortress by Capt. Church, commonly faithful bow. Her nimble fingers shall string designated by the appellation of the "swamp the beads no more. She shall not sharpen his fight," one solitary Indian, who had escaped arrows nor weave the quills of the quiver and the almost universal destruction, came forth the moccason. But is he stil! alone?from the ambush to which he had fled for shelt- Where are the tendrils that had sprung from er, and was seen slowly and solemnly walking the parent tree? they whose tracks were fleetamid the remains of the carnage of the preced- er than their father's to tire the roe-buck? ing day. The sun had just broken the dim gates Where are they who were coming up in of the winter morning, and looked out upon strength? whose arms were to be mighty against the still smoking embers with a feeble eye. the Yangees? They too have gone from their He looked coldly upon that scene-when he father. They shall lie down with the Raven saw the mangled and burning remains of a Hair in their long homes. Their feet no more thousand beings, who but two short journeys shall press the forest. Their bows shall no before, were revelling in supposed security, longer be drawn with Pequassett's. The rabmingled together, in one unsightly mass. bit shall not start before them, or feel the Rivers of blood had flown from hearts beating might of their little arms. But why are they high in youthful vigor and in aged enjoyment, gore?" The fiery spirit again began to arouse and lost themselves in the "bowels of the in his bosom. "Have not Pequassett's foes earth." And yet, farther down towards the sent to the Great Spirit those who were his blaze of the knoll, where the fervid heat of the life? Have not the Yangees come from conflagration had not mingled it with its na- the rising sun to destroy his brethrea?... But, tive waters, the deep piles of crimson snow shall he slumber while the foe is at work? still retained out too deep a memento of the Shall the lion sleep while the tyger is destroyhavoc which they had seen. Pequassett look- ing his young? No, the children of Minqueed mournfully upon the theatre of destruction, sha's son call for revenge. The sinews of this where friend and foe, Christian and Indian, arm shall bring atonement for their blood. The countryman and alien, lay slumbering in ash- wolf tires before the hound, and the tyger ites, undistinguishably blended together. He self sinks exhausted in the chase, but these was sorrowful. It seemed as if the manly spir-limbs shall not weaken, nor these feet flee ait which had burned within him had been up-way." He stooped to the ground, and slowly rooted by the tempest. His dark brow was lifting the slight remains of a victim, whose covered, the bow had fallen from his sinewy ornaments were like those of her for whom he arm, and the quiver had been unstrung and mourned, he exclaimed, “she has gone, and taken from his shoulders. He slowly paced a- shall Pequassett go forever unrevenged?" He mong the relics of the departed, as in search dropped the scorched arm, and assuming the of some hidden treasure. His melancholy de-defying position which is taken when the shrill meanor depicted the feelings of his heart. There was a torrent of grief overflowing his bosom, and no longer capable of quelling its troubled waves--he gave loose to them in words. "Pequassett is mournful the joys which cheered his days have departed. He is alone, like the stricken deer in the forest. But where is she of the Raven Hair? she whose dark eyes were shielded with the silken lash? she whose hands wove the shells of Pequassett's wampum, and dressed the beaver which fell before his arrows? The maid has depart

war-whoop is given, he continued; "No, I swear by the blood of her whose heart was once with this, to dip my feathered arrows in the hearts of the Yangees. Their blood must heal these wounds.-These arrows shall mock the flight of the eagle,and this arm the strength of the Big Bear beyond the waters. Pequassett's life is worthless-a grain of sand mingled with golden dust.-He has no friends to secure, or by whom to be succored, and while the blood of his veins continues to warm him and to give him strength, the foe shall feel

that he is mighty. He shall be a rankling || to our hero's bosom, the feelings which had thorn in their side; a wolf among their lamb-long lain dormant. He raised the fallen youth, kins." He paused, and searching out a wellstrung bow, and replenishing a stately quiver, he hastily swung them across his shoulders, and bounding off this scene of devastation, was quickly lost in the adjacent wilderness.

and wiping away the thick blood which smear-
ed his cheeks, he beheld a well-known face.
It was his son? his Owcenascow! The dark
visage of the stately warrior was disfigured
with conflicting emotions. He had the pas-
sions, the sensibility of a man, and a tender
fibre had been touched. He had almost for-
gotten the image of his offspring, and when
brought so suddenly and unexpectedly to
view, it recalled all the sorrows and vicisi-

He stood in silent woe, till the Indian who had
discovered to him his son had gone, and then,
dropping in silent agony his lifeless load, he
too turned away. But a stranger's hand was
upon his arm. He looked, and the dark eye
of another whose glance had often been a
cheerful draught to his bosom in other days
was fixed firmly upon his countenance.
saw that his own spirit was in the youth, and
that he bore the inherited resemblance of the
Raven Hair. Again did his big heart wish to

He

suffering with his forefathers stood before him in the full strength of youth, and another endeared spirit had winged its flight beyond the cloud-capped hill. Pequassett found that

Soon after the commencement of the campaign the succeeding season, a company of militia were upon the march, to aid in protecting a fortress, towards the south western boundaries of the Massachusetts, Fatigued with the length of their march, and the rough-tudes of the past, in freshness to his memory. ness of their route, they were travelling, carelessly and unguardedly along, unmindful of their situation, and thoughtless of their safety. The sun had passed his meridian; they were passing a dense ravine, when the shrill warcry resounded through the forest, and a large party of the enemy rushed from ambush, and attacked their rear. All was bustle and perturbation with the English. Many of them, half stupified with the suddenness of their surprise, rushed, they knew not where, and many were killed before the commanders could ral-burst, for one whom he deemed had long been ly a sufficient number to form any defence against the lawless foe; and even then they composed but a frail front against a much greater number of exasperated savages. There was a master spirit seen among the taw-his blood still run in another's veins, and he ny foe. Soon after the first onset, his erect and stately form was seen hurrying through the promiscuous ranks of his party. In his strong and muscular arm he brandished a ponderous tomahawk, whose sides glistened like crystal, and high upon his dark-hair'd brow it was shown that the eagle had yielded her plumage to a more destructive being. Bounding forward he rushed into the broken front of his enemy. Death waited at every blow of his hand; carnage and devastation marked his reeking path. He raised not his arm in vain; beneath each stroke a being groaned his last. It was Pequassett. He was seeking that revenge for which the blood of his kindred had called. In the heat of the action, the Indians were reinforced by a small scouting party, which had followed the trail of the whites. This unexpected addition turned the balance of the battle. After a short fight the whites were overpowered, and the Indians left in possession of the field. But it was a dearly bought victory, for many of the flower of the enemy had fallen. While Pequassett, with his brethren was reconnoitreing upon the field, an Indian at his elbow discovered the lifeless and bloody body of a stately youth, which he recognized. The Indian had loved the youth, and uttered his lament to Pequasset. "He was a glorious child. The vulture spirit was in his bosom; his sinews were like the Leopard's. || He never drew his bow in vain. The Yangeestress attended by some women, gathering roots, have seen his power. His father, slain by them, called for revenge. He obeyed the summons. He has wet his sure arrows in their veins. Like the hawk, he has smeared his talons with blood." The name of "father" called back

was not without a friend to succor. When
the first deep flood of feeling had subsided, he
spoke, but that warrior strength which had fil-
led his bosom, and given him such might a-
gainst the Yangees, had subsided. "Minque-
sha's son had lost his friends; he had lost them
all. His children were no more, and their
mother had gone away. He went to battle to
revenge his wrongs. But he has found them
for whom vengeance was partly due. While he
was revenging the death of his offspring, his
offspring were revenging the death of their sire.
They believed each other with the Great Spir-
it. But now, my boy, we will battle no more.
Thy dam has ceased to call for revenge. Our
thirst is quenched, our hunger is satiated. We
will bury the tomahawk, we will smoke the
calumet. Owcenascow sleeps, but he has been
worthy of his tribe. Then let us hie to our
resting place. We will still hunt the deer,
and the beaver shall still fall before us, come!
away
They separated from their party,
bounded into the thicket, and travelled to-
ward the rising sun.

יי!

The sun had reached his meridian the second day succeeding their departure from the battle field. They were walking together through the forest, when the sudden report of a musket rung in their ears, and a ball cut the dark plumes of Pequassett. The person who fired upon them was out from a neighboring for

He had taken the precaution to discharge his piece in such a manner as to kill them both, if either. But, his attempt proving unsuccessful, the Indians turned;-they drew their deadly bows, and the white man fell. But, not him

alone! an arrow, as if unsatiated with tasting the blood of one being, passed along and a female fell. The Indians sprang forward and the blood was flowing from one of their tribe. Pequassett gazed a moment and then rushed to grasp the gory body of the Raven Hair! Silence was around them. No one dared to speak, but the boy ran instinctively to a pool and brought some water to sprinkle the face of his mother, while Pequassett staunched the wounds,applied the healing balsam, and bound them up with leaves. They were not mortal, and the Raven Hair soon revived, to discover her situation. The Indian's cup was now full. He and his faithful son carried their wounded burden until able to walk, towards their place of destination. They went far down the Narragansett, and building a rude hut upon the rocky shore, they dwelt together, until Pequasset joined the spirits of his brethren and slept with the ashes of his father.

CLARENCE.

SELECTED MISCELLANY.

THE TRIAL.

or Not Guilty? With an effort that seemed intended to conquer some great difficulty of giving utterance to words in a place so imposing, she cast her eyes to heaven, and raising up one hand in solemn adjuration she slowly and in a voice thrilling from its clearness, distinctly answered, I am not guilty, so help me God. The action unfolded the shawl and exposed her person as far as the bar in which she stood would permit, until it was almost immediately again hastily wrapped around her, but not until the symmetry of her form had been seen to be of delicate proportion and beauty.

To some this action appeared the natural impulse of a strong consciousness of innocence -but others considered it theatrical and affected, and argued from it the existence of that cunning and artifice which is not unfrequently the evidence of guilt. The trial did not afford much incident. Mrs.--the lady of the prosecutor, testified that the prisoner had been in her family three years as a semstress-during which time she had conducted with perfect prudence, propriety and integrity, that recently she had exhibited appearances of dejection and melancholy; she had no suspicion however of her intending to leave the family, when one morning it was discovered she had flown-and the spoons were also missed at the same time. The prisoner, as the witness believed, had no money; her wages having been expended on necessary apparel. The ring had been in the toilet in the chamber to which the prisoner had free access and was placed there the evening before by the witness herself. It was a family

REBECCA HARMON (we choose to give her real name, and not that by which she was arraigned) was charged with feloniously stealing "three silver table spoons of the value of nine dollars,and one gold mourning ring with a cyper in hair of the value of ten dollars, of the goods and chattels of one George--, Esquire, in his dwelling house being found, against the peace and dignity of the Commonwealth and the form of the statute in such case made and pro-ring and from that circumstance very much

vided."

valued, and was so known to be by the prisoner, who had often before seen it and was acquainted with all the circumstances connect

ed with it.

diately fell on the prisoner-that he inquired if any other things were gone, and was told no

When the voice of the presiding Judge in harsh tones of official formality, which did not proceed from any hardness of heart, directed her to throw back her head-gear, and shew A young man, clerk to Esquire was the her face to the jury, her trembling and delicate next witness called. He deposed that when hand hardly was able to take off the faded Rebecca's absence was discovered, the spoons silk cardinal which had concealed it. This which formed part of the usual breakfast serbeing removed, displayed around an expres-vice, were missed--that his suspicion immesive face of small features which settled into a deadly paleness, after the momentary blush of shame had faded away. A profusion of light hair fell in disordered ringlets round her neck and still partially shaded a deep blue eye, from which slowly but constantly tear after tear-drop silently fell. Her lips and teeth were both of the whitness of marble,and at times there might be traced in her manner an abstraction of thought, an indifference to the matter on trial which gave her more the appearance of a statue from the hand of some celebrated sculptor, than a living being who had at issue even more than her life. A deep red shawl rolled round her neck, concealed her throat and most of her figure, and it was evident that the order to remove her head covering was wholly unexpected; and that she had calculated on passing through the forms of the trial, without being subjected to the scrutiny of spectators.

When the clerk had read the indictment, he proposed the usual question-Are you Guilty

that he again particularly inquired and received the same answer-that at the request of the prosecutor he obtained an officer, and followed the prisoner-that he found her at a small house on the road to Providence about nine miles from Boston--that she had with her a work basket which contained some linen and other articles of apparel, and that the spoons and ring were at the bottom of the basket. The testimony of this witness seemed to fix the charge according to the forms of the law. The goods were identified by their owner, and particularly the ring that had not been missed till it was recovered. The stolen property was found in her possession. She gave no account where she got it. She had fled from her residence and without money. These articles were probably intended to pay her expenses on the road. This witness was corroborated by the officer of the law who went with him

The cross examination established no point favorable to the defendant. There was a moment indeed when the sharp eye of the ad

and arrested the prisoner at the place mentioned. There was yet something in the manner of this evidence, which made a reluctant way to the conviction of the jury-a kind of linger-vocate seemed to flash with a belief that he ing suspicion that although the common form of proof had been supplied, something yet remained untold which might present the transaction in a different aspect; or perhaps the pause which ensued at the close of the government's testimony, was the evidence merely of that unwilling effort of the mind which hesitates to decide upon any painful operation as well as to perform it.

Some expectation indeed had been excited from the appearance of a young counsellor as the advocate of the defendant, who had then just commenced his professional career; and of whom the public had formed that favorable prediction which the maturity of his reputation has if possible exceeded.

This gentleman had been called into the cause by the humanity of Mr. Hartshorn the well remembered superintendent of the jail, and a perfect contrast to the common pictures which had been drawn of the hard heartedness and cruelty of similar officials.

Mr. Hartshorn was the only friend of this unfortunate defendant. Her conduct under his care was so different from the common class of felons-there was such a calm resignation, such a shrinking from the company and association of the inmates of the prison, and such utter friendlessness towards her by all the world, that his good feelings triumphed over the habit of apparent severity which was his ordinary seeming. He appropriated to her, at the only request she made, a separate room which soon assumed more neatness than any other apartment in the prison, and he called to her aid the young gentleman who had given promise of his future eminence at the bar.

His efforts however in this respect seemed altogether in vain. With him she would hold no communion. She refused to tell why she had left the mansion of the prosecutor or how the goods came into her possession. Indeed she avoided all explanation and replied to his professional inquiries with a monosyllable or a tear. Something beyond the great calamity which hung over her seemed to weigh down her spirits and absorbed all her melancholy reflections, and the young counsellor after two or three useless interviews declared that if her appearance satisfied him she was innocent, her conduct left no doubt she would be declared to be guilty.

He had however taken his place at the bar, and when the pause which followed the conclusion of the government's testimony was interrupted by a call from the bench for the prisoner's counsel to proceed, the young advocate seemed to be in as great a dilemma as bis interesting client. He remarked that he had no testimony to adduce in her behalf, but that with permission of the court he would propose a question or two to the witness last on the stand.

had found some inconsistency in the story of the witness, who at first said he himself had taken the articles out of the basket, but afterwards that he had seen them taken out by the officer when the basket was handed to him for inspection. Once also it seemed as if the witness faltered on the question how he knew the road she had taken or the house at which she had stopped, and when he answered that he had only traced her by inquiries on the road,a suppressed moan from the prisoner drew upon her the eyes of the jury and the court.

His ad

There seemed to be little ground for the young counsellor to stand upon in defence, but he was not wanting in justice to his own reputation, nor in the duty that a richer client might have required at his hands. dress to the jury was one of those brilliant pieces of poetry, which when argument or evidence may be wanting, an ingenious and artful advocate knows so well how to lay before his auditors. The severity of the law, the consequences of the verdict, the excellent good character of the prisoner, the inconsistency and even the folly of the conduct charged upon her, her friendless and forlorn situation formed the principal topics of his speech, while with an address and ingenuity that has been so peculiarly the characteristic of his professional career, he intimated the insufficiency of the evidence to support the inference of her guilt, and seemed to hint without asserting that although no explanation could legally be giv. en of the manner in which the articles were found in her possession, it might be possible they came there by accident or mistake. The cup of Joseph, said he, was of old time found in the sack of Benjamin, and the money of the children of Jacob, every man's money in his sack's mouth; and the orator followed out the idea which his prolific imagination had suggested, by drawing a contrast between the kindness of the father of Benjamin and the unfeeling neglect and forgetfulness of those who ought by nature to have assisted the beautiful and drooping flower that was bending like the rosebud in a storm. Every body was affected but the unhappy object for whom this useless eloquence was exhausted.

The officer of the Commonwealth said but few words in reply. The presiding Judge remarked to the jury that they were to settle a fact and not gratify their humane or charitable feelings, and the verdict was in a few minutes recorded by the clerk that the prisoner was guilty.

The rest of the judicial proceedings were soon finished. Not a whisper was audible in the crowd of the court room while the clerk pronounced the following sentence.

"The court having considered of your offence do order that you be publicly whipped on the naked back, ten stripes, that you pay

to the party injured twelve pounds ten shillings and sixpence, which with the articles restored is treble the amount of the articles stolen, and if the same is not paid in thirty days, that you be disposed of in service to any person whatever for the term of six months, and that you stand committed until sentence be performed."

The prisoner waited a moment. An officer opened the door of the criminals' bar in which she had been placed during the trial, and as

he reached out his hand to lead her from the court house she fell senseless on the floor.

Preparation had been made for the infliction of the sentence, when the fortitude of the sufferer failed. The impenetrable silence which she had preserved gave way to the kindly admonitions of the worthy clergyman who had prevailed on her to listen to his instructions; or more probably to the awful apprehension of public exposure. She disclosed circumstan

ces which induced the sheriff on his own responsibility to suspend the execution of the sentence, and finally prevailed on the supreme executive to grant her a free pardon. She had been pronounced guilty, and was pardoned; but she was in truth innocent of the crime. A single word put the excellent superintendant on an inquiry which terminated in the perfect satisfaction of those friends whom Providence raised up for her that she had been wrongfully condemned. She heard her discharge pronounced with less fortitude than her conviction. Her senses had been benumbed with the rudeness of the blow which assailed her, and she bore without being sensible of them, the rapid movements which succeeded it.

of a single draw-bridge must have rendered it utterly inaccessible. Enough of the outer wall still remains, to preserve the memory of the fair Cunigunda, equally celebrated for her charms and her cruelty. She was the daughter and heiress of the lord of the Kienast, and the most blooming of Silesian beauties. Her wealth and charms attracted crowds of

knightly wooers to her father's castle; but the maiden, like another Camilla, was entirely devoted to the boisterous exercise of the chase, in which she excelled many of her suitors; she would listen to no tale of love, and dreaded marriage as she did a prison. At length to free herself from all importunities, she made a solemn vow, never to give her hand but to the knight who should ride round the castle on the outer wall. Now, this wall is not only too narrow to furnish a secure or pleasing promenade in any circumstances, but, throughout nearly its whole course, it runs along the very brink of hideous precipices, and, in one place, hangs over a frightful abyss, which till this day, bears the name of hell. The number of the lady's lovers rapidly diminished. The more prudent wisely considered, that the prize was not worth the risk; the vain proposed themselves to the trial, in the hope that their presence would mollify Cunigunda's heart, and procure a dispensation from the hard condition; but the mountain-beauty was

She had now awoke to all the horrors of her situation. She had escaped ignominy as a thief, but her character could not be preserved. She had been deceived, ruined and betrayed. She pined for a few months in a mel-proof against all arts, and, when the moancholy depression of mind which bordered on fatuity, and died in becoming the mother of a lifeless child. A scheme had been contrived by the reckless villain who had been the cause of her misfortune to destroy her credibility, and escape the consequences which in manliness he ought to have assumed.

It was found that his testimony on her trial

adhered in letter to the truth, while it accumulated a weight of crime upon himself which ages of repentance could be barely able to remove. Avoiding the disclosure before the trick was developed, he defrauded justice by escaping beyond its jurisdiction.-B. M. Mag.

A SILESIAN TALE.

On a scanty and bold projection of a rock stand the ruins of the Kienast, so separated on all sides from the body of the mountain by precipitous dells, except where a narrow ledge on the south connects it with the hill, that the rising

ment of danger came, the courage of the suitor generally gave way. History has not recorded the precise number of those who actually made the attempt; it is only certain that every one of them broke his neck, (as he well deserved ;) and the lady lived on in her wild and virgin independence. At length, a young and handsome knight appeared at the castle gate, and requested to be admitted to the prehis fortune. Cunigunda received him, sence of its mistress, that he might try and her hour was come; his manly beauty, the courtesy of his behaviour, and his noble spirit,made her repent, for the first time, of the price which she had set upon her hand. Having received, in presence of the inmates of the castle, her promise to become his bride, if he should return in safety from the trial, he rode forth to

« AnteriorContinuar »