neither food nor liquor had passed our lips; thus the passions may at times have an influence on the human frame, as inebriating as wine, or any other liquor. The morning brought us plenty, in the form of rations of beef and bread. Hunger allayed, my only desire was, to proceed homeward. Money was wanting. How to obtain it in a place, where all my friends and acquaintances were alike poor and destitute, gave me great anxiety and pain. Walking up the street very melancholy, unknowing what to do, I observed a waggon, built in the Lancaster county fashion (which at that time, was peculiar in Jersey), unloading stores for the troops, come or coming. The owner was Stephen Lutz of Lancaster; on seeing me, he grasped my hand with fervor, told me every one believed me to be dead. Telling him our story in a compendious manner, the good old man, without solicitation, presented me two silver dollars, to be repaid at Lancaster. They were gladly received. My heart became easy. The next day, in company with the late Colonel Febiger, and the present General Nichols, and some other gentlemen, we procured a light return-waggon, which gave us a cast as far as Princeton. Here we had the pleasure of conversing with Dr. Witherspoon, who was the first that informed us of a resolution of Congress to augment the army. It gave us pleasure, as we had devoted ourselves individually to the service of our country. The next day, we proceeded on foot, no carriage of any kind being procurable. Night brought us up at a farm-house, somewhere near Bristol. The owner was one of us, that is, a genuine whig. He requested us to tarry all night, which we declined. He presented us a supper, that was gratefully received. Hearing our story, he was much affected. We then tried to prevail on him, to take us to Philadelphia, in his light wagon. It was objected that it stood loaded with hay in the barn floor; his sons were asleep or abroad. We removed these objections, by unloading the hay, while this good citizen prepared the horses. Mounting, we arrived at the 41 Harp and Crown," about two o'clock in the morning. To us, it was most agreeable, that we passed through the streets of Philadelphia in the night time, as our clothing was not only threadbare but shabby. Here we had friends and funds. A gentleman advanced me a sum sufficient to enable me to exchange my leggins and moccasins, for a pair of stockings and shoes, and to bear my expenses home. A day and a half, brought me to the arms of my beloved parents.

In the course of eight weeks, after my return from captivity, a slight cold, caught when skating on the ice of Susquehanna, or in pursuing the wildturkey, among the Kittatinny hills, renewed that abominable disorder, the scurvy and lameness, as you now observe it, was the consequence. Would to God! my extreme sufferings, had then ended a life, which since has been a tissue of labor, pain, and misery.

THE WANDERINGS

OF THAT

EMINENT AMERICAN
AMERICAN TRAVELER.

JOHN LEDYARD,

IN VARIOUS PARTS OF THE WORLD.

JOHN LEDYARD was one of those intrepid men, who, "taking their lives in their hands," have, under the stimulus of a spirit of adventure, wandered into unknown and barbarous lands; by their discoveries extended the boundaries of geographical science, bringing to light new races of men, and revealing to human knowledge the physical and natural resources of other climes.

Whether we contemplate Ledyard in his youth, descending the Connecticut in a frail canoe, when swollen to an impetuous torrent by the melting of the winter snows, or voyaging around the world-among the savages of New Zealand, or the gay revels of Paris; in Bhering's Straits, or treading Siberian snows; on the shores of Bothnia, clambering Uralian crags, or in the presence of the Irkutsh Tartar; surrounded with the momentoes of Egypt's glory, or amid the sands of Africa; he presents that prompt decision and manly self-reliance that will attract all to whom his story is made known.

This, the most eminent of American travelers, was born at Groton, Connecticut, near Fort Griswold, of revolutionary memory, in the year 1751. He was the son of William Ledyard, who was master of a vessel in the West India trade. His father dying while John was a lad, threw the management of a large family of little ones upon his mother. She was left penniless by the loss of the will; but being an energetic woman, she struggled successfully against misfortune. William, her second son, was the brave Colonel Ledyard, who was barbarously slain after the capitulation of Fort Griswold, which he had so gallantly defended. John, the subject of this sketch, was her eldest son. He was eventually sent to Hartford, where he first attended the grammar school, and then became a student in the law office of his uncle and guardian, Thomas Seymour, and an inmate in his family.

When Ledyard was in his twentieth year, Dr. Wheelock, the founder of Dartmouth College, prompted by an intimacy which had existed between Ledyard's grandfather and himself, prevailed upon him to enter that institution, with a view to his becoming a missionary among the Indians. The position of an Indian missionary, as the experience of Wheelock, Eliot, and

their blankets, became objects of real commiseration-their limbs contracted, as one of mine is now: large blue and even black blotches appeared on their bodies and limbs-the gums became black-the morbid flesh fell away—the teeth loosened, and in several instances fell out. Our minds were now really depressed. That hilarity and fun which supported our spirits in the greatest misfortunes, gave way to wailings, groanings and death. I know, from dire experience, that when the body suffers pain, the mind, for the time, is deprived of all its exhilarations-in short, almost of the power of thinking. The elbow joints, the hips, the knees and ankles were most severely pained. It was soon observed (though the doctor's mate attended us almost daily, and very carefully), there was little or no mitigation of our disease except that the diarrhea, which was derived from another cause than that which produced the scurvy, was somewhat abated; and that our remedy lay elsewhere in the materia medica, which was beyond the grasp of the physician. The diarrhea came from the nature of the water we used daily. In the month of April, the snows begin to melt, not by the heat of the sun, but most probably by the warmth of the earth beneath the snows. The ground, saturated with the snow-water, naturally increased the fountain-head in the collar. Literally, we drank the melted snow. The scurvy had another origin. The diet-salt pork, infamous biscuit-damp, and close confinement, in a narrow space, together with the severity of the climate, were the true causes of the scurvy.

There was no doubt in any reflective mind among us, but that the virtuous and beneficent Carleton, taking into view his perilous predicament, did everything for us, which an honest man and a good Christian could.

The seventh of May arrived. Two ships came to the aid of the garrison, beating through a body of ice, which perhaps was impervious to any other than the intrepid sailor. This relief of men and stores, created great joy in the town. Our army outside began their disorderly retreat. My friend Simpson, with his party, were much misused, from a neglect of giving him information of the intended flight of our army. Some few of the men under his authority, straggled and were taken in the retreat. They came to inhabit our house. Now, for the first time, we heard an account of the occurrences during the winter's blockade, which to us, though of trivial import, were immensely interesting. The sally of this day, produced to the prisoners additional comfort—though the troops took a severe revenge upon our friends without, by burning and destroying their properties. The next day, more ships and troops arrived: a pursuit took place, the effect of which was of no consequence, except so far as it tended to expel the colonial troops from Canada. To the prisoners, this retreat had pleasing consequences; fresh bread, beef newly slaughtered, and a superabundance of vegetables, was a salutary diet to our reduced and scorbutic bodies.

After we were relieved of our irons and had full bodily liberty a singular phenomenon which attends the scurvy, discovered itself. The venerable and respectable Maybin, had recommended to us exercise, not only as a mean of cure, but as a preventive of the scorbutic humors operating. Four of the most active would engage at a game of "fives." Having played some games in continuation, if a party incautiously sat down, he was seized by the most violent pains in the hips and knees, which incapaciated him from play for

many hours, and from rising from the earth, where the patient had seated himself. These pains taught us to keep afoot all day, and even to eat our food in an erect posture. Going to bed in the evening, after a hard day's play, those sensations of pain upon laying down immediately attacked us. The pain would continue half an hour, and often longer. My own experience will authorize me to say two hours. In the morning, we rose free from pain, and the routine of play and fatigue ensued, but always attended by the same effects, particularly to the stubborn and incautious, who would not adhere to the wholesome advice of Doctor Maybin. Those who were inactive, retained those excruciating pains to the last, together with their distorted, bloated, and blackened limbs. Upon our return from Canada, in the autumn of 1776, I saw five or six of my crippled compatriots, hobbling through the streets of Lancaster on their way home. It cost a tear-all that could be given. By the month of August, the active were relieved from those pains.

In the beginning of August, we were told by Captain Prentis, that the Governor had concluded, to send us by sea to New York upon parole, for the purpose of being exchanged; that the transports, which had brought the late reinforcements from Europe, were cleansing and preparing for the voyage. Now there was exultation. On the seventh of August, we subscribed our written paroles. We embarked a day or two after in five transports conveyed by the Pearl frigate and arrived in the harbor of New York on the 11th of September.

Now it was for the first time that we heard of the dilemma in which our country stood. The battle of Long Island, on the twenty-seventh of August, had been unsuccessfully fought by our troops, many of whom were prisoners. In such hurrying times, intercourses between hostile armies in the way of negotiation upon any point, are effected with difficulty. We had waited patiently several weeks, to be disembarked on our own friendly shore; yet tantalized every day with reports, that to-morrow we should be put on shore some, and in a little while all, began to fear it was the intention of General Howe, to detain us as prisoners in opposition to the good will of Sir Guy Carleton.

Near the end of the month our gloomy fears were set at rest by the intelligence that we were to embarked in shallops and landed at Elizabethtown Point on the Jersey shore. Every eye sparkled at the news. On the next day, about noon, we were in the boats:-adverse winds retarded us. It was Morgan stood in the bow of the boat; making a spring, not easily surpassed, ten or eleven at night, before we landed; the moon shone beautifully. and falling on the earth, as it were to grasp it-cried "O my country." We that were near him, pursued his example. Now a race commenced, which in quickness, could scarcely be exceeded, and soon brought us to Elizabethtown. Here, those of us who were drowsy, spent an uneasy night. Being unexpected guests, and the town full of troops, no quarters were provided for us. Joy rendered beds useless; we did not close our eyes till daylight. Singing, dancing, the Indian halloo, in short, every species of vociferousness was adopted by the men, and many of the most respectable sergeants, to express their extreme pleasure. A stranger coming among them, would have pronounced them mad, or at least intoxicated; though since noon,

neither food nor liquor had passed our lips; thus the passions may at times have an influence on the human frame, as inebriating as wine, or any other liquor. The morning brought us plenty, in the form of rations of beef and bread. Hunger allayed, my only desire was, to proceed homeward. Money was wanting. How to obtain it in a place, where all my friends and acquaintances were alike poor and destitute, gave me great anxiety and pain. Walking up the street very melancholy, unknowing what to do, I observed a waggon, built in the Lancaster county fashion (which at that time, was peculiar in Jersey), unloading stores for the troops, come or coming. The owner was Stephen Lutz of Lancaster; on seeing me, he grasped my hand with fervor, told me every one believed me to be dead. Telling him our story in a compendious manner, the good old man, without solicitation, presented me two silver dollars, to be repaid at Lancaster. They were gladly received. My heart became easy. The next day, in company with the late Colonel Febiger, and the present General Nichols, and some other gentlemen, we procured a light return-waggon, which gave us a cast as far as Princeton. Here we had the pleasure of conversing with Dr. Witherspoon, who was the first that informed us of a resolution of Congress to augment the army. It gave us pleasure, as we had devoted ourselves individually to the service of our country. The next day, we proceeded on foot, no carriage of any kind being procurable. Night brought us up at a farm-house, somewhere near Bristol. The owner was one of us, that is, a genuine whig. He requested us to tarry all night, which we declined. He presented us a supper, that was gratefully received. Hearing our story, he was much affected. We then tried to prevail on him, to take us to Philadelphia, in his light wagon. It was objected that it stood loaded with hay in the barn floor; his sons were asleep or abroad. We removed these objections, by unloading the hay, while this good citizen prepared the horses. Mounting, we arrived at the "Harp and Crown," about two o'clock in the morning. To us, it was most agreeable, that we passed through the streets of Philadelphia in the night time, as our clothing was not only threadbare but shabby. Here we had friends and funds. A gentleman advanced me a sum sufficient to enable me to exchange my leggins and moccasins, for a pair of stockings and shoes, and to bear my expenses home. A day and a half, brought me to the arms of my beloved parents.

In the course of eight weeks, after my return from captivity, a slight cold, caught when skating on the ice of Susquehanna, or in pursuing the wildturkey, among the Kittatinny hills, renewed that abominable disorder, the scurvy and lameness, as you now observe it, was the consequence. Would to God! my extreme sufferings, had then ended a life, which since has been a tissue of labor, pain, and misery.