call her blessed." Gratitude forbids their silence; for to maternal affection and female heroism alone, under God, they owe their deliverance from savage cruelty. The boldest hero of the other sex could never have effected what she accomplished. His approach to the savage tribe to intercede in behalf of those defenceless children most surely would have brought upon himself a long and wretched captivity, and perhaps even death itself.

The Indians, having accomplished their nefarious designs, returned to the house of Mr. Havens with their prisoners and the plunder of houses which they had devoted to destruction. Here was the place where they had commenced their ravages. The old man, as before observed, having concealed himself under a log, at the time he espied the Indians in the morning while hunting for his sheep, still remained in sorrowful silence undiscovered. He had considered it unsafe to move, as a party of the crew had continued there during the day, and had twice come and stood upon the log under which he lay without finding him.

After collecting their plunder together and distributing it among them they burned the house and barn of Mr. Havens and started for Canada. It was now about two o'clock in the afternoon. They carried off twenty-six prisoners from Royalton, who were all delivered up to the British as prisoners of war.

They all obtained their release and returned in about one year excepting Adan Durkee, who died in camp at Montreal.

Twenty-one dwelling houses, and sixteen good new barns, well filled with hay and grain, the hard earnings of industrious young farmers, were here laid in ashes by the impious crew. They killed about one hundred and fifty head of neat cattle and all the sheep and swine they found. Hogs in their pens and cattle tied in their stalls were burned alive. They destroyed all the household furniture except what they carried with them. They burned the house of Mr. John

Hutchinson; and giving his wife a hatchet and a flint, together with a quarter of mutton, told her to "go and cook for her men." This they said to aggravate her feelings and remind her of her forlorn condition.

Women and children were left entirely destitute of food and every kind of article necessary for the comforts of life, almost naked, and without a shelter. Wandering from place to place, they beheld their cattle rolling in their blood, groaning in the agonies of death, and .saw their houses laid in ruins. Disconsolate mothers and weeping orphans were left to wander through the dreadful waste and lament the loss of their nearest friends, comfortless and forlorn.

The Indians took away about thirty horses, which were however of little use to them, but rather served to hinder their progress. Their baggage was composed of almost every article commonly found among farmers; such as axes and hoes, pots, kettles, shovels and tongs, sickles, scythes and chains, old side saddles, and bed ticks emptied of their feathers, warming pans, plates, and looking glasses, and indeed nearly all kinds of articles necessary for the various avocations of life.

On their return they crossed the hills in Tunbridge, lying west of first branch, and proceeded to Randolph, where they encamped for the first night, near the second branch, a distance of about ten miles. They had, however, previously despatched old Mr. Kneeland, a prisoner whom they considered would be of the least service to them, with letters to the militia, stating that, "if they were not followed, the prisoners should be used well; but should they be pursued, every one of them would be put to death."

The alarm had by this time spread through the adjacent towns; and the scattering, undisciplined militia shouldered their muskets and hastened to pursue them. They collected at the house of Mr. Evans, in Randolph, about two miles south of the encampment of the Indians. Here they formed

a company, consisting of about three hundred in number, and made choice of Colonel John House, of Hanover, New Hampshire, for their commander. They supposed the Indians had gone to Brookfield, about ten miles from that place, up the second branch. With this expectation they took up their march about twelve o'clock at night, hoping they should be able to reach Brookfield before light and make them prisoners. They had scarcely started when the American front guard, to their utter surprise, were fired upon by the rearguard of the enemy. Several fires were exchanged and one of the Americans wounded; when Colonel House, through cowardice or want of skill, commanded them to halt and cease firing. He then ordered them to make a stand, and kept them in suspense till the Indians had made their escape. To hasten their flight, the savage tribe were compelled to leave at their encampment a considerable quantity of their plunder, nearly all the horses, and made good their retreat.

Here they killed two of the prisoners, by the names of Joseph Kneeland and Giles Gibbs. The former was found dead, with his scalp taken off, and the latter with a tomahawk in his head.

At daylight Colonel House courageously entered the deserted camp and took possession of the spoil; but, alas! the enemy were gone he knew not where. Urged by his brave soldiers, who were disgusted at his conduct, he proceeded up the second branch, as far as Brookfield, in pursuit of the enemy, and, not finding them, disbanded his men and returned.

Had Colonel H. possessed courage and skill adequate to the duties of his station he might have defeated the enemy, it is thought, without the least difficulty, and made them all. prisoners. His number was equal to that of the enemy, well armed with muskets and furnished with ammunition. The enemy, though furnished with muskets, had little ammunition, and were cumbered with the weight of much guilt and a load of plunder. They had encamped upon a spot of ground

which gave the Americans all the advantage, and their only safety rested in their flight. The American force consisted of undisciplined militia, who promiscuously assembled from different quarters, but were full of courage, animated by the principles of justice and determined to obtain redress for the injuries they had received from the barbarous crew.

Many of them likewise had friends and connections then in possession of the Indians, to obtain whose freedom they were stimulated to action. But, alas! their determination failed, their hopes were blasted. They were forced to relinquish the object, and suffer their friends to pass on and endure a wretched captivity. They, however, forced the Indians to leave the stream and take their course over the hills, between the second and third branch, which brought them directly and unexpectedly to the house of Zadock Steele, whom they made prisoner and took to Canada.

To his "captivity and sufferings," as related by himself in the following pages, the reader is referred for a further account of the expedition of the Indians and its dreadful consequences.

CAPTIVITY OF ZADOCK STEELE.

BEFORE the mind of the indulgent reader is engaged in a perusal of the sufferings of my maturer years, it may not be improper to direct the attention to scenes of nativity and youth.

The day of my birth, and the events which transpired to bring upon me the miseries I have undergone, will not be uninteresting, I think, to those who may feel disposed to read the following pages.

As, in the evening of a tempestuous day, with solemn yet pleasing emotions we look back on the dangers through which we have been preserved, so, when man has passed through scenes of fatigue, endured the hardships of a savage captivity, as well as the pains of a prison, and again obtained his freedom, it is a source of pleasure to cause those scenes to pass in review before his imagination, and cannot fail to excite his gratitude to the Power that afforded him relief.

I was born at Tolland, Connecticut, on the 17th of December, 1758. In 1776 my father, James Steele, Esq., moved from Tolland to Ellington, a town adjoining, where he kept a house of entertainment several years. During the years of my childhood the American colonies were put in commotion by what is generally termed the French war.

The colonies had hardly recovered from the convulsions of that war when the American revolution commenced. My father had been actively engaged in the former war, and now received a lieutenant's commission in the revolutionary army. The importance of the contest in which the colonies were