tims of some midnight massacre, his nearest and dearest relations; it is not to be wondered at, that he should fear and detest the savage. While the war-whoop is sounding in his ear, the rifle is kept in readiness, and the cabin door securely barred with the return of evening.

Among those thus born and reared, one Thomas Higgins, of Kentucky, stands preeminent. During the war of 1812, he enlisted at an early age in a company of rangers, and came to Illinois. One of the most extraordinary events during its progress, occurred near Vandalia, in which Higgins participated. Men talk of Marathon, and Thermopylæ, and Waterloo, as if warlike deeds were exhibited only there, without reflecting that a single ranger from Kentucky has eclipsed them all.

A little fort, or rather blockhouse, having been erected about twenty miles from Vandalia, late the capital of Illinois, and about eight miles south of the present village of Greenville, to protect the frontier settlements from the Indians, Lieutenant Journay and twelve men were assigned for its garrison. Of the latter, Higgins was one.

The surrounding country was, at that time, a continued forest; and the little hamlet of Greenville a frontier town.

On the 30th of August, 1814, strong indications that savages were in the neighborhood became apparent; and at night, a party of Indians was seen prowling about the fort.

On the morning of the 31st, before daylight, Lieutenant Journay, with the whole force under his command, sallied forth in pursuit of them. They had not proceeded far before a large party of savages-seventy or eighty in number-rose from their ambush, and at the first fire the Lieutenant and three of his men were killed, and another wounded. Six returned in safety to the fort, and one (Thomas Higgins,) lingered behind, in order to have "one more pull at the enemy."

The morning was sultry-the day had not yet dawned; a heavy dew had fallen during the night, and the air being still and humid, the smoke from their guns hung like a cloud over the scene.

By aid of this cloud, the companions of Higgins escaped to the fort. Higgins's horse, having been shot in the neck, fell upon his knees; he rose, however, in a moment. Higgins, in the meantime, supposing him to be mortally wounded, had dismounted, and was about to leave him. Perceiving soon thereafter his error, and that the wound was not dangerous, he determined to make good his retreat; but resolved first to avenge the death of his companions.

He sought, therefore, a tree, from behind which he could shoot with safety. A small elm, scarcely sufficient to protect his body, was near. It was the only one in sight; and, before he could reach it, the smoke partly arose and discovered to him a number of Indians. One of them was loading his gun. Higgins, having taken deliberate aim, fired at the foremost savage, and he fell. Concealed still by the smoke, Higgins reloaded, mounted his horse, and turned to fly, when a voice, apparently from the grass, hailed him with "Tom, you won't leave me, will you?"

Higgins turned immediately around, and seeing a fellow soldier by the name of Burgess lying on the ground, wounded and gasping for breath, replied: "No, I'll not leave you-come along."

"I can't come," said Burgess; "my leg is all smashed to pieces." Higgins dismounted, and taking up his friend, whose ankle had been broken, was about to lift him on his horse, when the horse taking fright, darted off in an instant, and left Higgins and his friend behind.

"This is too bad," said Higgins; “but don't fear; you hop off on your three legs, and I'll stay behind between you and the Indians, and keep them off. Get into the tallest grass, and crawl as near the ground as possible." Burgess did so, and escaped.

The smoke, which had hitherto concealed Higgins, now cleared away, and he resolved, if possible, to retreat. To follow the track of Burgess was most expedient. It would, however, endanger his friend.

He determined, therefore, to venture boldly forward, and, if discovered, to secure his own safety by the rapidity of his flight. On leaving a small thicket, in which he had sought refuge, he discovered a tall, portly savage near by, and two others in a direction between him and the fort. He paused for a moment, and thought if he could separate, and fight them singly, his case was not so desperate.

He started, therefore, for a little run of water which was near, but found one of his limbs failing him-it having been struck by a ball in the first encounter, of which, till now, he was scarcely conscious.

The largest Indian pressed close upon him, and Higgins turned round two or three times in order to fire. The Indian halted and danced about to prevent his taking aim. Higgins saw it was unsafe to fire at random, and perceiving two others approaching, knew he must be overpowered in a moment, unless he could dispose of the forward Indian first. He resolved, therefore, to halt and receive his fire. The Indian raised his rifle; and Higgins, watching his eye, turned suddenly, as his finger pressed the trigger, and received the ball in his thigh.

Higgins fell, but rose immediately, and ran. The foremost Indian, now certain of his prey, loaded again, and with the other two, pressed on. They overtook him-Higgins fell again, and as he rose, the whole three fired, and he received all their balls. He now fell and rose again; and the Indians, throwing away their guns, advanced upon him with spears and knives. As he presented his gun at one or the other, each fell back. At last, the largest Indian, supposing Higgins's gun to be empty, from his fire having been thus reserved, advanced boldly to the charge. Higgins fired, and the savage fell.

He had now four bullets in his body-an empty gun in his handtwo Indians unharmed, as yet, before him—and a whole tribe but a few yards distant. Any other man but Higgins would have despaired. Napoleon would have acknowledged himself defeated; Wellington, with all his obstinacy, would have considered the case as doubtful; and Charles, of Sweden, have regarded it as one of peril. Not so with Higgins. He

had no notion of surrendering yet. He had slain the most dangerous of the three; and having little to fear from the others, began to load his rifle. They raised a savage whoop, and rushed to the encounter; keeping at a respectful distance when Higgins's rifle was loaded, but when they knew it was empty, "they were better soldiers."

A bloody conflict now ensued. The Indians stabbed him in several places. Their spears, however, were but thin poles, hastily prepared for the occasion, and bent whenever they struck a rib or a muscle. The wounds they made were not therefore deep, though numerous, as his scars sufficiently testified.

At last one of them threw his tomahawk. It struck him upon the cheek, passed through his ear, which it severed, laid bare his skull to the back of his head, and stretched him upon the prairie. The Indians again rushed on but Higgins, recovering his self-possession, kept them off with his feet and hands. Grasping at length one of their spears, the Indian, in attempting to pull it from him, raised Higgins up; who, taking his rifle, smote the nearest savage, and dashed out his brains. In doing so, however, his rifle broke the barrel only remaining in his hand.

The other Indian, who had hitherto fought with caution, came now manfully into the battle. His character as a warrior was in jeopardy. To have fled from a man thus wounded and disarmed, or to have suffered his victim to escape, would have tarnished his fame for ever.

Uttering, therefore, a terrific yell, he rushed on, and attempted to stab the exhausted ranger; but the latter warded off his blow with one hand, and brandished his rifle-barrel with the other.

The Indian was as yet unharmed, and under existing circumstances, by far the most powerful man. Higgins's courage, however, was unexhausted, and inexhaustible. The savage, at last, began to retreat from the glare of his untamed eye, to the spot where he dropped his rifle. Higgins knew that if he recovered that, his own case was desperate; throwing, therefore, his rifle-barrel aside, and drawing his hunting-knife, he rushed upon his foe. A desperate strife ensued-deep gashes were inflicted on both sides. Higgins, fatigued, and exhausted by the loss of blood, was no longer a match for the savage. The latter succeeded in throwing his adversary from him, and went immediately in pursuit of his rifle. Higgins, at the same time, rose and sought for the gun of the other Indian. Both, therefore, bleeding and out of breath, were in search of arms to renew the combat.

The smoke had now passed away, and a large number of Indians were in view. Nothing, it would seem, could now save the gallant ranger. There was, however, an eye to pity, and an arm to save-and that arm was a woman's!

The little garrison had witnessed the whole combat. It consisted of but six men and one woman; that woman, however, was a host-a Mrs. Pursley. When she saw Higgins contending, single-handed, with a whole tribe of savages, she urged the rangers to attempt his rescue. The

rangers objected, as the Indians were ten to one. Mrs. Pursley, therefore, snatched a rifle from her husband's hand, and declaring that "so fine a fellow as Tom Higgins should not be lost for want of help," mounted a horse, and sallied forth to his rescue. The men, unwilling to be outdone by a woman, followed at full gallop-reached the spot where Higgins fainted and fell, before the Indians came up; and while the savage with whom he had been engaged was looking for his rifle, his friends lifted the wounded ranger up, and throwing him across a horse before one of the party, reached the fort in safety. (See note 4.)

The war, so far as Illinois was concerned, having now ceased, we pursue the subject no further.

We have already remarked that the regular troops in Canada, when war was declared, did not exceed two thousand. The number, however, was afterward increased, and, at length, became formidable.

The "man of destiny," who had entered the confines of Russia with an army of seven hundred thousand men, and was defeated by the inclemency of its winter; in 1813 returned from thence in haste to defend his capital. In December of that year, the allied armies entered France, and in April, 1814, her imperial master was banished to Elba. The war upon the continent having ceased, the attention of England was directed hither. Her "fleets covered the ocean, and her armies darkened the land." The frontiers of Canada became the theatre of a bloody strife, in which little else was gained but laurels. Our seaboard was distressed; our capital was burned; our towns were attacked; our ships generally triumphant, and our cities gallantly defended.

Peace was at length concluded, on the 24th of December, 1814, by the treaty of Ghent; and publicly proclaimed by the president, on the 18th of February, thereafter.

By this treaty, nothing was settled. No agreement was concluded, except "to be, and remain at peace." The difficulties which had caused the war were yet unadjusted. The questions on which we had taken issue were open, as before.

We gained, it is true, what every lad values above price, "the reputation of being a young man of spirit." England and Europe have since treated us with more respect than formerly, and the American, residing or travelling in any part of the globe, may now own his country with pride.

The war also taught us some valuable lessons. We acquired a knowledge of our own weakness, as well as of our strength. We learned from thence that our best policy is in honorable peace in conquest, that we are weak, in defence, strong and irresistible.

NOTE I.

We cannot recognize in General Harrison, on this occasion, that devotion to country which animated General Montgomery, who fell in the attack upon Quebec, during the revolutionary war. Montgomery was appointed the second brigadier-general in the

Continental army-General Pomeroy the first. General Pomeroy, not accepting the appointment, the claim of General Montgomery, according to military notions, became perfect. Congress, however, conferred the vacant situation upon General Thomas, who was originally the sixth. This advancement of a junior over a senior officer, Congress thinking might prove offensive to a man of Montgomery's rigid notions of military honor, (he having been bred in the best military schools in Europe,) and being conscious of their of fence, they directed James Duane, a member of their body, from New-York, to write to him and explain away the matter as well as he could. He did so, and received the following in reply, which contains the elements of true greatness.

DEAR SIR:

I have been honored with your letter of the 21st instant. My acknowledgments are due for the attention shown me by Congress.

"I submit with great cheerfulness to any regulation they, in their prudence, shall judge expedient. Laying aside the principles of the soldier, I shall endeavor to discharge my duty to society-considering myself as the citizen, reduced to the melancholy necessity of taking up arms, for the public safety. I am, etc.

"Hon. JAMES DUANE."

"RICHARD MONTGOMERY.

NOTE IL

Mr. Cooper, in describing the scene, graphically remarks: "At this critical moment, the Niagara came steadily down, within half pistol-shot of the enemy; standing between the Chippeway and Lady Prevost on one side, and the Detroit, Queen Charlotte, and Hunter on the other. In passing, she poured in her broadsides, starboard and larboard; ranged ahead of the ships, luffed athwart their bows, and continued delivering a close and deadly fire. The shrieks from the Detroit proved that the tide of battle had turned. At the same moment, the gun vessels and the Caledonia were throwing in, also, discharges of grape and canister astern. A conflict so fearfully close and so deadly, was necessarily short. In fifteen or twenty minutes after the Niagara bore up, a hail was passed among the smaller vessels that the enemy had struck; and an officer of the Queen Charlotte appeared on the taffrail of that ship, waving a white handkerchief bent to a boarding-pike.” Mr. Cooper's work having a tendency to exalt Captain Elliot at the expense of Commodore Perry; it having also excited much interest, especially of late, and called forth a great deal of unnecessary vituperation, the battle of Lake Erie demands some further

comments.

Each officer was directed by Commodore Perry to bring his vessel into line at "halfcable length" from the enemy. Did Captain Elliot do so? or was he prevented from thus doing by necessity? And what was, or rather what would have been the consequence of this omission, had it not been for the extraordinary-the desperate measure resorted to by Commodore Perry?

Had the Niagara "followed the little Caledonia into the thickest of the fight;" had she taken her position in line, and bore her part in the action, the battle would at once have been decided. By Captain Elliot's neglect or omission, the Lawrence was compelled to fight, single-handed, the Detroit, the Queen Charlotte, and the Hunter, at the same time, for two hours; during which period every gun was dismounted, and almost every man killed or wounded. The Lawrence was at that time wholly unmanageablea wreck upon the water. The victory on the part of the British was then decisive. Commodore Perry, however, by leaving his disabled ship, going on board the Niagara, and bringing her into action, (the smaller vessels following in his wake,) restored the battle, won a victory, captured a whole fleet, and, in defiance of the studious want of exertion on the part of Captain Elliot, his second in command, acquired imperishable laurels. In going from the Lawrence to the Niagara, fifteen minutes were consumed; and in bringing the latter into action, fighting, and winning the battle, fifteen more. Thus