But we are not under the disagreeable necessity of apologising for every thing we relate of Captain Pipe. He gave many evidences of a natural honor and humanity, even amid the bloodiest scenes of the revolution, and contrary to the dictation of those who were qualified, by every thing but feelings, to understand his duty better than himself. Under strong excitement he attached himself to the British interest, and towards the close of the war scalping-parties went out from his settlement. He was also prejudiced against the Christian Indians, and molested them much. But none of these things were done in his cooler moments; and what is more creditable to him, there is good reason to believe that he repented of all. The evidence of this fact appears in a transaction which took place at Detroit in November, 1781, with the particulars of which, as furnished by Loskiel and others, we shall conclude this narrative.

On the occasion referred to, a grand Indian council was convened at Detroit, at which were present large numbers of various tribes, including Captain Pipe's Wolf warriors, who had just returned from a scalping expedition. Four of the Moravian missionaries were also there, having been summoned to attend, at the suggestion of Pipe and others, for the purpose of deciding upon several charges alleged against them. The hall was filled with the concourse, the tribes being separately seated all around it, on the right and left hand of the commandant, while the Delawares, with Pipe and his councillors at their head, were directly in front. A war-chief of each of the two divisions of Indians held a stick in his hand, of three or four feet in length, strung with scalps which they had taken in their last foray on the American frontier.

The council was opened by the commandant's signifying to Captain Pipe that he might make his report, when the latter rose from his seat, holding a stick in his left hand:

"Father!" he began; and here he paused, turned round to the audience with a most sarcastic look, and then proceeded in a lower tone, as addressing them," I have said father, though indeed I do not know why I should call him so-I have never known any father but the French-I have considered the English only as brothers. But as this name is imposed upon us, I shall make use of it and say,

"Father"-fixing his eyes again on the commandant-"some time ago you put a war-hatchet into my hands, saying, "take this weapon and try it on the heads of my enemies, the Long-knives, and let me know afterwards if it was sharp and good."

them away to the Moravians." "So!" rejoined the Indian, "now I understand you well, and I know what you mean to say. Now, hear me. See, my friend! when I come to this place with my skins and peltry to trade, the people are kind; they give me plenty of good victuals to eat, and pay me in money, or whatever I want, and no one says a word to me about drinking rum, neither do I ask for it! When I come to your place with my peltry, all call to me, Come, Thomas! here's rum, drink heartily, drink! it will not hurt you.' All this is done for the purpose of cheating me. When you have obtained from me all you want, you call me a drunken dog, and kick me out of the room."

"Father! At the time when you gave me this weapon, I had neither cause nor wish to go to war against a foe who had done me no injury. But you say you are my father, and call me your child, and in obedience to you I received the hatchet. I knew that if I did not obey you, you would withhold from me* the necessaries of life, which I could procure nowhere but here.

"Father! You may perhaps think me a fool, for risking my life at your bidding, and that in a cause which I have no prospect of gaining any thing. For it is your cause, and not mine-you have raised a quarrel among yourselves, and you ought to fight it out-it is your concern to fight the Long-knives-you should not compel your children, the Indians, to expose themselves to danger for your sake.

"Father! Many lives have already been lost on your accountthe tribes have suffered, and been weakened-children have lost parents and brothers-wives have lost husbands-it is not known how many more may perish before your war will be at an end.

"Father! I have said, you may perhaps think me a fool, for thus thoughtlessly rushing on your enemy! Do not believe this, father. Think not that I want sense to convince me, that although you now pretend to keep up a perpetual enmity to the Long-knives, you may, before long, conclude a peace with them.

"Father! You say you love your children, the Indians. This you have often told them; and indeed it is your interest to say so to them, that you may have them at your service.

"But, father! Who of us can believe that you can love a people of a different color from your own, better than those who have a white skin like yourselves?

While you,

"Father! Pay attention to what I am going to say. father, are setting met on your enemy, much in the same manner as a hunter sets his dog on the game; while I am in the act of rushing on that enemy of yours, with the bloody destructive weapon you gave me, I may, perchance, happen to look back to the place from whence you started me, and what shall I see? Perhaps, I may see my father shaking hands with the Long-knives; yes, with those very people he now calls his enemies. I may then see him laugh at my folly for having obeyed his orders; and yet I am now risking my life at his command! Father! keep what I have said in remembrance.

"Now, father! here is what has been done with the hatchet you gave me," (handing the stick with the scalps on it). "I have done with the hatchet what you ordered me to do, and found it sharp. Nevertheless, I did not do all that I might have done. No, I did not. My heart failed within me. I felt compassion for your enemy. Innocence had no part in your quarrels; therefore I distinguishedI spared. I took some live flesh, which, while I was bringing to you, I spied one of your large canoes, on which I put it for you. In a few will receive this flesh, and find that the skin is the same color

days you

with your own.

*Meaning his tribe.

Meaning women and children.

Meaning his nation.
Prisoners.

"Father! I hope you will not destroy what I have saved. You, father, have the means of preserving that which would perish with us from want. The warrior is poor, and his cabin is always empty; but your house, father, is always full."

During the delivery of this harangue, which is said to have produced a great effect on all present, and especially on those who understood the language in which it was spoken, the orator two or three times advanced so far towards the commandant, in the heat of his excitement, that one of the officers present thought proper to interfere and request him to move back. The other war-chiefs now made their speeches, and then the commandant (an honorable and humane man, notwithstanding the orator's strictures on his father) called upon him to substantiate his charges against the missionaries. Pipe, who was still standing, was unwilling to make the attempt, but felt embarrassed. He began to shift and shuffle, (says Loskiel,) and bending towards his councillors, asked them what he should say. They all hung their heads, and were silent. Suddenly, recollecting himself and rising up, he addressed the commandant. "I said before that some such thing might have happened, but now I will tell you the plain truth. The missionaries are innocent. What they have done, they were compelled to do, (alluding to their having interpreted letters which the Delaware chief received from Pittsburg, &c). We were to blame-we forced them to it, when they refused." After some farther conversation the commandant declared the missionaries to be acquitted of all the accusations brought against them.

Pipe expressed his satisfaction at the result, and on returning from the council-house, he asked some of the Delaware chieftains who were present how they liked what he said. He observed, that he knew it was true, and added: "I never wished your teachers any harm, knowing that they love the Indians; but I have all along been imposed on, and importuned to do what I did by those who do not love them; and now, when these were to speak, they hung their heads, leaving me to extricate myself, after telling our father things they had dictated and persuaded me to tell him." This declaration has decidedly the air of candor and truth; and the captain's subsequent conduct was much more in accordance with the spirit of it than it had been before. He did not, however, distinguish himself particularly after the close of the war, and even the time of his death has not come within our knowledge, although we have reason to believe that he was living, and able to visit the city of Washington, as late as 1817.

NARRATIVES, CAPTIVITIES & ANECDOTES,

ILLUSTRATIVE OF MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.

[The following extracts are taken from Drake's History of the North American Indians.] CHAPTER I.

DESTRUCTION OF SCHENECTADY.*

This was an event of great distress to the whole country, at the time it happened, and we are able to give some new facts in relation to it from a manuscript, which, we believe, has never before been published. These facts are contained in a letter from Governor Bradstreet, of Massachusetts, to Governor Hinckley, of Plymouth, dated about a month after the affair. They are as follow:-"Tho' you cannot but have heard of the horrid massacre committed by the French and Indians at Senectada, a fortified and well compacted town 20 miles above Albany, (which we had an account of by an express,) yet we think we have not discharged our duty till you hear of it from us. "Twas upon the eighth of February, (1689-90) at midnight, when those poor insecure wretches were surprised by the enemy. Their gates were open, no watch kept, and hardly any order observed in giving and obeying commands. Sixty of them were butchered in the place; of whom Lieut. Talmage and four more were of Capt. Bull's company, besides five of said company carried captive. By this action the French have given us to understand what we may expect from them as to the frontier towns and sea-ports of New England. We are not so well acquainted what number of convenient havens you have in your colony, besides those of Plymouth and Bristol. We hope your prudence and vigilance will lead you to take such measures as to prevent the landing of the enemy at either of those or any such like place."t

We now proceed to give such other facts as can be gathered from the numerous printed accounts. It appears that the government of Canada had planned several expeditions, previous to the setting out of this, against various important points of the English frontier,-as much to gain the warriors of the Five Nations to their interest, as to distress the English. Governor De Nonville had sent over several chief sachems of the Iroquois to France, where, as usual upon such embas

*This was the German name of a pine barren, such as stretches itself between Albany and Schenectady, over which is now a railroad. +French ships, with land forces and munitions, had, but a short time before, hovered upon the coast.

sies, great pains were taken to cause them to entertain the highest opinions of the glory and greatness of the French nation. Among them was Taweraket, a renowned warrior, and two others. It appears that, during their absence in France, the great war between their countrymen and the French had ended in the destruction of Montreal and other places. Hence, when Count Frontenac arrived in Canada, in the fall of 1689, instead of finding the Iroquois ready to join him and his forces which he had brought from France for the conquest of New York, he found himself obliged to set about a reconciliation of them. He therefore wisely despatched Taweraket, and the two others, upon that design. The Five Nations, on being called upon by these chiefs, would take no step without first notifying the English at Albany that a council was to be called. The blows which had been so lately given the French of Canada had lulled the English into a fatal security, and they let this council pass with too little attention to its proceedings. On the other hand, the French were fully and ably represented; and the result was, the existing breach was set in a fair way to be closed up. This great council was begun 22d January, 1690, and consisted of eighty sachems. It was opened by Sadekanaghtie, a great Oneida chief.

Meanwhile, to give employment to the Indians who yet remained their friends, the expedition was begun which ended in the destruction of Schenectady. Chief Justice Smith wrote his account of that affair from a manuscript letter left by Colonel Schuyler, at that time mayor of Albany; and it is the most particular of any account yet published. It is as follows, and bears date 15th February, 1689:

After two-and-twenty days'. march, the enemy fell in with Schenectady, February 8th. There were about 200 French, and perhaps 50 Caughnewaga Mohawks, and they first intended to have surprised Albany; but their march had been so long and tedious, occasioned by the deepness of the snow and coldness of the weather, that, instead of attempting any thing offensive, they had nearly decided to surrender themselves to the first English they should meet such was their distressed situation, in a camp of snow, but a few miles from the devoted settlement. The Indians, however, saved them from the disgrace. They had sent out a small scout from their party, who entered Schenectady without even exciting suspicion of their errand. When they had staid as long as the nature of their business required, they withdrew to their fellows.

Seeing that Schenectady offered such an easy prey, it put new courage into the French, and they came upon it as above related. The bloody tragedy commenced between 11 and 12 o'clock, on Saturday night; and, that every house might be surprised at nearly the same time, the enemy divided themselves into parties of six or seven men each. Although the town was impaled, no one thought it necessary to close the gates, even at night, presuming the severity of the season was a sufficient security; hence the first news of the approach of the enemy was at every door of every house, which doors were broken as soon as the profound slumbers of those they were intended to guard.