saw-mills, of which he erected several. And while these were employed in carrying on a very advantageous trade of deals and lumber, which were floated down on rafts to New-York, they were at the same time clearing the ground for the colony the colonel was preparing to establish.

This new settlement was an asylum for every one who wanted bread and a home: from the variety of employments regularly distributed, every artisan and every labourer found here lodging and occupation; some hundreds of people, indeed, were employed at once. Those who were in winter engaged at the saw-mills, were in summer equally busied at a large and productive fishery. The artisans got lodging and firing for two or three years, at first, besides being well paid for every thing they did. Flax was raised and dressed, and finally spun and made into linen there; and as artisans were very scarce in the country, every one sent linen to weave, flax to dress, &c. to the colonel's colony. He paid them liberally; and having always abundance of money in his hands, could afford to be the loser at first, to be amply repaid in the end. It is inconceivable what dexterity, address, and deep policy were exhibited in the management of this new settlement; the growth of which was rapid beyond belief. Every mechanic ended in being a farmer, that is, a profitable tenant to the owner of the soil; and new recruits of artisans from the north of Ireland chiefly supplied their place, nourished with the golden dews which this sagacious projector could so easily command. The rapid increase and advantageous result of this establishment were astonishing. It is impossible for my imperfect recollection to do justice to the capacity displayed in these regulations. But I have thus endeavoured to trace to its original source that wealth and power which became, afterwards, the means of supporting an aggression so formidable.

CHAP. LII.

Madame's popularity-Exchange of Prisoners.

In the front of Madame's house was a portico, towards the street. To this she was supported, in fine evenings, when the whole town were enjoying themselves on their respective seats of one kind or other. To hers there were a few steps of ascent, on which we used humbly to seat ourselves; while a succession of the "elders of that city" paid their respects to madame, and conversed with her by turns. Never was levee better attended. "Aunt Schuyler is come out," was a talismanic sentence that produced pleasure in every countenance, and set every one in motion who hoped to be well received; for, as I have formerly observed, aunt knew the value of time much too well to devote it to every one. We lived all this time next door to her, and were often of these evening parties.

The Indian war was now drawing to a close, after occasioning great disquiet, boundless expense, and some bloodshed. Even when we had the advantage which our tactics and artillery in some instances gave, it was a warfare of the most precarious and perplexing kind. It was something likt hunting in a forest at best; could you but have supposed the animals you pursued armed with missile weapons, and ever ready to start out of some unlooked-for place. Our faithful Indian confederates, as far as I can recollect, were more useful to us on this occasion than all the dear-bought apparatus which we collected for the purpose of destroying an enemy too wise and too swift to permit us to come in sight of them; or, if determined to attack us, sufficiently dexterous to make us feel before we saw them. We said, however, that we conquered Pondiac, at which, no doubt, he smiled; for the truth

of the matter was, the conduct of this war resembled a protracted game of chess. He was as little able to take our forts without cannon, as we were able without the feet, the eyes, and the instinctive sagacity of Indians, to trace them to their retreats. After delighting ourselves for a long while with the manner in which we were to punish Pondiac's presumption, "could we but once catch him," all ended in our making a treaty, very honourable for him, and not very disadvantageous to ourselves. We gave both presents and promises, and Pondiac gave permission to the mothers of those children who had been taken away from the frontier settlements, to receive tnem back again, on condition of delivering up the Indian prisoners.

The joyful day when the congress was held for concluding peace I never shall forget. Another memorable day is engraven in indelible characters upon my memory. Madame being deeply interested in the projected exchange, brought about a sheme for having it take place at Albany, which was more central than any other place, and where her influence among the Mohawks could be of use in getting intelligence about the children, and sending messages to those who had adopted them, and who, by this time, were very unwilling to part with them. In the first place, because they were grown very fond of them; and again, because they thought the children would not be so happy in our manner of life, which appeared to them both constrained and effeminate. This exchange had a large retrospect. For ten years back there had been every now and then, while these Indians were in the French interest, ravages upon the frontiers of the different provinces. In many instances, these children had been snatched away while their parents were working in the fields, or after they were killed. A certain day was appointed, on which all who had lost their children, or sought those of their relations were to come to Albany in search of them; where,

on that day, all Indians possessed of white children, were to present them. Poor women, who had travelled some hundred miles from the back settlements of Pennsylvania and New-England, appeared here, with anxious looks and aching hearts, not knowing whether their children were alive, or how exactly to identify them if they should meet them. I observed these apprehensive and tender mothers were, though poor people, all dressed with peculiar neatness and attention, each wishing the first impression her child should receive of her might be a favourable one. On a gentle slope near the fort, stood a row of temporary huts, built by retainers to the troops : the green before these buildings was the scene of these pathetic recognitions, which I did not fail to attend. The joy of even the happy mothers was overpowering, and found vent in tears; but not like the bitter tears of those who, after long travel, found not what they sought. It was affecting to see the deep and silent sorrow of the Indian women, and of the children, who knew no other mother, and clung fondly to their bosoms, from whence they were not torn without the most piercing shrieks; while their own fond mothers were distressed beyond measure at the shyness and aversion with which these long-lost objects of their love received their caresses. I shall never forget the grotesque figures and wild looks of these young savages; nor the trembling haste with which their mothers arrayed them in the new clothes they had brought for them, as hoping that with the Indian dress, they would throw off their habits and attachments. It was, in short, a scene impossible to describe, but most affecting to behold. Never was my good friend's considerate liberality and useful sympathy more fully exerted than on this occasion, which brought so many poor travellers from their distant homes on this pilgrimage to the shrine of nature. How many traders did she persuade to take them gratis in their boats! How many did she

feed and lodge! and in what various ways did she serve or make others serve them all. No one, indeed, knew how to refuse a request of aunt Schuyler, who never made one for herself.

CHAP. LIII.

Return of the fifty-fifth regiment to Europe-Privates sent to Pensacola.

THE fifty-fifth now left their calm abodes amidst their lakes and forests, with the joy of children breaking up from their school; little aware that they were bidding adieu to quiet, plenty, and freedom, and utter strangers to the world into which they were about to plunge. They all came down to Albany. Captain Mungo Campbell was charmed to find me so familiar with his Milton; while I was equally charmed to find him a favourite with aunt Schuyler, which was with me the criterion of merit. Colonel Duncan, for such he was now, marched proudly at the head of his pupils, whom he had carried up raw youths, but brought back with all the manly and soldierly openness of manner and character that could be wished, and with minds greatly improved. Meanwhile, madame's counsels had so much influence on my father, that he began seriously to think of settling in America. To part with his beloved fifty-fifth was very trying; yet his prospects of advantage in remaining among a people by whom he was esteemed, and to whom he had really become attached, were very flattering; for by the aid of aunt and the old inhabitants, and friendly Indians, who were at her powerful bidding, he could expect to get advantageously some lands which he, in