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Here are a few more items in the bill of blood. By the following it will be seen that when the English Aristocrats found it impossible to carry on the war and to conquer the Americans by what is generally considered the arts of honorable warfare, they privately bribed the Indian savages to murder, by every means in their power, as many Americans as possible, and actually engaged to give them so much a piece for every American scalp. The English generally thus carried on a regular trade with the Indians in human heads. The following document is a letter sent by Captain Crawford to Colonel Haldiman, the British Governor of Canada, accompanying eight packs of scalps:

"May it please your excellency, at the request of the Seneca chiefs, I send, herewith, to your excellency, under care of James Boyd, eight packs of scalps, cured and dried, hooped and painted with all the Indian triumphal marks, of which the following is invoice and explanation:

Pack 1. Containing forty-three scalps of Congress soldiers, killed in different skirmishes; these are stretched on black hoops, four inches in diameter, the inside of the skin is painted red, with a small black spot, to denote their being killed with bullets. Also, sixty-two of farmers, killed in their houses, the skin painted brown, and marked with a hoe; a black circle all round, to denote their being surprised in the night, and a black hatchet in the middle, signifying their being killed with

that weapon.

"2. Containing ninety-eight farmers, killed in their houses: hooped red; figure of a hoe, to mark their profession; great white circle and sun, to show they were surprised in the day time; a little red foot. to show they stood upon their defence, and died fighting for their

lives and families.

"3. Containing ninety-seven farmers; hoops green, to show they were killed in their fields; a large white circle with round mark in it for the sun, to show that it was in the day time; black bullet mark on some-hatchet on others.

out by the roots, and other torments: one of these latter is supposed to be a rebel clergyman, his band being fixed to the hoop of his scalp. Most of the farmers appear by the hair to have been young or middle-aged men; there being but sixty-seven very gray heads among them all, which makes the service the more essential.

"5. Containing eighty-eight scalps of women: hair long, braided in the indian fashion, to show they were mothers; hoops blue; skin yellow ground with little red tadpoles, to represent, by way of triumph, the tears of grief occasioned to their relations; a black scalpingknife or hatchet at the bottom, to mark their being killed with those instruments; sixteen others, hair very gray, black hoops; plain brown color, no mark but the short club, or casse-tate, to show they were knocked down dead, or had their brains beat out.

boys' scalps, of various ages; small green hoops; "6. Containing one hundred and ninety-three whitish ground on the skin, with read tears in the middle, and black bullet marks; knife, hatchet, or club, as their deaths happened.

"7. Two hundred and eleven girls scalped, big and little; small yellow hoops, white ground; tears, hatchets, clubs, scalping-knifes,

&c.

varieties above mentioned to the number of "8. This package is a mixture of all the birch bark, containing twenty-nine little inone hundred and twenty-two, with a box of fants" of various sizes-small white hoops, with white ground.

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excellency the following speech, delivered by With these packs the chiefs send to your Coneiogatchie in council, and interpreted by the elder More, the trader, and taken down by me in writing:

"Father, we send you herewith many scalps, that you may see we are not idle friends.

"Father, we wish you to send these scalps regard them, and be refreshed, and that he over the water to the great king, that he may may see our faithfulness in destroying his enemies, and be convinced that his presents have not been made to an ungrateful people."

These packs of scalps, and the letters accompanying them, were found among the baggage of the English army after the defeat of "4. Containing one hundred and two of farmers, mixed of the several marks above; these sad remains of their murdered brethren. General Burgoyne. The Americans preserved only eighteen marked with a little yellow flame, to denote their being of prisoners burnt as a mark of the ferocity of their royal and alive, after being scalped, their nails pulled aristocratic enemies

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THE splendid equipage of Mrs. Cortley was at the door of her mansion, and the lady, flaunting in the pride of wealth and luxury, stepped from the marble portal, with her daughter Clara at her side, and entering the carriage, ordered her menial driver to convey them to the studio of a young but celebrated artist. The Empire City, New-York, is justly celebrated for many peculiarities, among which may be rated its morality and mud; its churches, charities and chiffoniers; its fashions, frauds, follies and fanatics; its artists and aristocrats; and, not least, its clergymen, corporation, and coquettes. Clara Cortley was a curiosity of the latter class; her father, it is said, was found in a fish barrel one fine night, by the city watch, at a very "tender age." He was conveyed to the watch-house; thence to the

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foundling asylum at Bellevue; thence to the store of a merchant, with a stipulation that he was to sweep the floors, make fires and run of errands; thence, having learned the tricks of trade, he set up a shop for himself, and by "sharp practice," got ahead in the world; then he married, "enlarged his business," made money, had a couple of daughters, bought a coach, and without two ideas in his head, was received into the magic circle of fashionable life. Doubtless the advent of Mr. Preserved Cortley, gave rise to the distinguishing appellation of "Codfish Aristocracy," that has been sometime applied to a certain, and very large portion of Upper-ten-dom.

Miss Clara never allowed an opportunity for conquest to escape her. Like most daughters with dowers, she found no lack of adorers in

the butterfly-world of fashion; and as her elder sister, Mary, though a modest and lovely girl, was regarded as only the Cinderella of the family, and seldom aimed at those graces of art which distinguish the double-refined specimens of feminine gentility, Clara became the pink, or rather the sunflower, of attraction among the beaux of the circle. Like all other vain women, however, admiration was always acceptable, come from what source it might; and a conquest of anything in the shape of a man, even of a mechanic or an artist, afforded food for her towering ambition. Why not? Are not mechanics and artists, being men, as competent judges and admirers of female beauty as any other? This was the question with Miss Clara, and as she deemed herself superlatively beautiful, she loved to be told that she was so, even by the meanest lackey in pantaloons.

By some singular freak of paternal emotion in the breast of Mr. Preserved Cortley, he had, a short time before, taken his eldest daughter to the artist above mentioned, and from his divine skill obtained a faithful likeness of his child. Mary was not his favorite, because of her simplicity of manners. She was too republican for his ideas of what constitutes a fashionable lady; but on this occasion, he had, strangely enough, evinced a temporary and ephemeral preference. The picture was finished and brought home from the studio of Mr. George Arlington, the artist, and duly suspended upon one of the walls of the back parlor. Clara cared so little for this one-sided affair, that she not only made no objection to, it, but when the portrait was brought home and hung up, she even gave it the patronage of her praise; but when Mary recounted to her the conversational powers of the artist, his gentle manner and handsome person, and told how many excellent things he said to her while shut up alone with him in the studio for hours together, her ruling passion was awakened, her jealousy a little piqued, and her dear papa had no rest, night or day, until he consented that another check for one hundred dollars should be drawn in favor of a portrait of his pet darling, Clara. Our chapter opens at the precise moment when the young coquette, accompanied by her mother, set forth for a first interview with this artist, whom the words of Mary had magnified into a something almost superhuman, or at least, a quarry worth hunting. She had, accordingly, arrayed herself in what she considered a most luxurious

and captivating low-necked dress, of the most costly material; yet it would have been plain to the most casual observer, that her reliance for conquest was placed upon the native beauties which her dress and jewels were intended rather to display than conceal.

Her heart palpitated with pride and conscious power as, with mock humility, she entered the studio, and laid aside the superb cloak that had hidden her really beautiful neck and figure from the gaze of the public throng.However great her vanity, she knew that some men are more readily captivated by a modesty of deportment in woman, than by anything else; and with this assumed demeanor, and her great personal attractions combined, she already calculated upon a proposition of elopement from the artist before the finish of her portrait, and the triumph that she should enjoy in laughing at his audacity. There stood Arlington, a nobleman indeed! Young, finely formed, and with an air of intelligence and dignity that the coquette had not expected to find in any living creature out of the magic circle of wealth and fashion. For the first time in her life, she shrank instinctively from the look of man, and the abashment that she had at first assumed, became real,-her eyes were bent upon the floor,-the blood rushed upward, suffusing her alabaster neck with crimson, and planting upon her cheeks the first glow of true maiden modesty.

Arlington was struck with her beauty, and promised himself, from such a model, a portrait that would do him credit in the world of art He received his visitors with that air of frank courtesy which is so natural to the true gentleman, and his suavity of manner soon reassured his sitter, who, although not relieved from the restraint that his evident superiority had imposed upon her, became by degrees more accustomed to her new position, and more at ease in his society. As the ladies were expected, the artist was prepared to commence his work, and in a few moments the young lady was arranged in the proper light and attitude for a first sitting. This done, Mrs. Courtley took leave, promising to call in an hour for her daughter.

What passed during that hour in the studio, further than the making of a charcoal sketch upon canvas, I cannot say; but this much is true: Miss Clara Cortley, instead of conquering, had been conquered. She left the studio a new character, and was rather sad than gay until the hour approached for another visit to

the "portrait painter." Punctual to the moment, she was again at the studio for a second sitting; and thus, day after day this routine was continued, and the time occupied in sitting for her portrait seemed to be the sole engrossing subject of her thoughts; and yet the portrait itself was evidently of little consequence. This may seem strange, that one bred to fashionable life should seek the society of a toiler, and more especially so, since the artist never treated her with compliments or flattery. This was the first time that she had been thrown into a calm and deliberate companionship with a man of sense, and she could not fail to draw in her mind the distinguishing line between his manly propriety and the frivolous and heartless adulation of her accustomed companions. The coquette was subdued. At first she almost feared, next admired, and finally venerated, and, as she confessed to herself, could easily have loved the poor artist, whose presence she had sought for the sole purpose of gratifying her own weak vanity.

I believe it is a fixed fact in the law of physics, that all things mortal and material must have an end; and so it was with these interviews, very much against the wishes of the the young lady. The portrait was at last finished, and no more sittings were required; but her inclinations had become so woven into the web of the artist's presence that the idea of a separation was more irksome than agreeable ; and as she could no more visit him, the lady ventured an earnest and pressing request that he would superintend the hanging of her portrait in the parlor of her father's mansion. Arlington promised a compliance, and Clara, having entered her carriage, was conveyed grandly, but discontentedly, to her home.

"I will thank you not to be talking so much about Mr. Arlington," said Clara, one day, to her elder sister. "It seems to me you think of nothing else."

"Indeed, sister; and suppose I should think of nothing else, have you any serious objection to my thoughts?" answered Mary.

"Objection! yes; there is objection enough. You ought to be ashamed of giving so much consideration to a mere portrait painter. What is he to you ?”

"Oh, nothing; only I am a little surprised that you should take the matter so much to heart. Pray, my young monitor, have you anything to urge against Mr. Arlington's cha

racter ?"

แ "No, nothing against his character hut"

"Is he not courteous, well-behaved, and intelligent? in a word, is he not a gentleman ?" "I don't care what he is," answered Clara, rather petulantly. "I know what he is not, and that should be sufficient to prevent your being so forward and familiar with his name."

"And pray, what is he not, that is to be so fatal to my privilege of speech and thought ?"

"You know well enough. He is not a man of family or fashion, and if pa or ma knew of your silly notions about him, they would soon put a stop to them."

"In very good truth, sister," replied Mary, "I think you take more interest in this matter than becomes the younger daughter of my pa and ma. Have a care, or, since you have told me what he is not, I may be compelled to tell you what he is."

"I don't wish to say anything against the man, and I am sure you can't," said Clara; "but it is enough to put one out of all patience to hear you always, eternally praising him."

"I praise him, forsooth! I could say more against him than ever you have."

"I don't see any occasion for speaking against him at all, so we had better drop the subject." "Not just yet, sis," said Mary; "this Arlington is a presumptuous fellow, and you ought to know it."

"I have not yet discovered his presumption, I must confess," answered Clara. "No! Is he not as poor as Job's turkey?" "Is that a proof of his presumption?" "Is it not, when he aspires to the love of my aristocratic sister?"

Clara became very crimson at this satirical expression of her usually mild sister, but the burst of indignation that was about to follow was suspended, and this pleasant interview, which threatened seriously to end with a pulling of caps, was brought to a close by an announcement that Miss Clara's portrait, elegantly framed, had arrived at the door, and was then on its transit to the parlor. This event gave a new turn to the employment of the young ladies, and John was instantly dispatched to Mr. Arlington, with a statement that the picture had been sent home by the frame-maker, and a polite request from the junior sister that he would attend in the evening and give the requisite directions about placing it.

With the evening came the artist. Clara, the belle, was not unprepared for this long wished-for interview, and she determined it should not be the last. Adopting that system

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of tactics which had hitherto been successful in securing the admiration, or at least the flattery, of her male visitors, she appeared before him arrayed in regal splendor, and received the unsuspecting artist with most profound courtesy, affability, and, as she conceived, dignity. But the dignity of Clara Cortley was of that class which belongs to the ostentatious rather than the well-bred, and the artist was not overpowered. Nevertheless, although he could not appreciate the extraordinary efforts and good intentions of this young lady, he felt a decided inclination to renew the acquaintance of her sister, Mary; and, having been invited to a seat after arranging the picture. ventured to inquire for her.

it was rather amusing to Arlington to witness the look of chagrin with which this inquiry was received by the coquette. She was taken by surprise; but after a moment's hesitation she managed to stumble through a reply, intimating that Mary was doubtless employed. as usual, among the pots and pans, or superintending the servants. The elder sister was, however, summoned, and in a few moments presented herself in a neat household dress, but far more at ease in her manner than her estentatious junior. The old folk were subsequently added to the party, and the interview at length ended with a unanimous invitation to the artist to visit them often.

Arlington was too much interested to treat such an invitation with neglect, and his subsequent visits were frequent. His susceptible mind had been taken captive, and his clear judgment told him that there was a pearl above price in the family of the Cortleys, but as yet it seemed immeasurably beyond his reach. He would have given half of his very existence to have seen Mary Cortley a poor girl; since, in such a case, he would have been free to speak his love. As it was, she was not only rich, but of a family of that spurious aristocracy which is ten times more punctilious, and jealous of caste, than the real; besides, it is difficult for a poor man to aspire to the hand of a rich maiden without encountering the sobriquet of "fortune hunter;" and against this his refined delicacy revolted. A third, and even more potent obstacle was in his path: he had not the most distant hope that his affections would be returned if made known, because Mary, although evidently gratified with his society, had always maintained that sweet and dignified maiden reserve peculiar always to the true and sensible woman. Had it been

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Clara, or the fortune, that he sought, the case would have been widely different.

Matters thus wore on, and each day but added to the smothered but ardent passion of the youth, which he still lacked the resolution to reveal. Poor fellow! could he have known the secret emotions of that little heart which he so adored, there would have been short work of it, fortune or no fortune. At lengthfor matters of this kind must reach a climax somewhere-while on a visit to the sisters, on a balmy summer evening-our readers may be aware that such evenings are most propitious for love-making-the coquette being called momentarily away, to entertain a bevy of flambeau-admirers in the adjoining parlor, our artist was left in the festooned recess of a window, side by side with his heart's idol. Perhaps there are few men who, under similar circumstances, would not have seized the hand of the maiden, and poured forth a declaration. Arlington thought of doing so, but his embarrassment was extreme; and for some moments not a whisper was uttered, and the beating of two hearts could almost be heard in unison. At length Mary-give me a woman for such an emergency-the sweet Mary, broke the spell of silence, by catching up the thread of conversation where it had been broken off by the entrance of the new visitors. They had been speaking, as all young folk will, about matrimony, during which the coquette had rallied the artist on his state of single blessedness, and Mary, renewing the subject, inad vertently drew from her companion this expression,-

"My dear Miss Cortley, your volatile sister is too severe on my misfortunes. I assure you the state of single life is not of my own choosing, and to convince you of this, allow me to add that I am even now engaged."

The twilight of the apartment did not conceal the slight pallor that overspread the features of poor Mary at this intelligence. But she rallied in a moment, and in a trembling exclamation, echoed the last wor 1"Engaged!"

"Yes, Miss Cortley, I am engaged, though unhappily not in the sense that is usually attributed to the expression. The engagement that I speak of is that of my most ardent affection: it is irrevocably given to one whom I dare not approach, and who would doubtless reject with scorn a suit so presuming."

"Indeed!" said the maiden, forgetting in her sympathy all selfish considerations. "Is

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