DEFEAT OF GENERAL BRADDOCK. THE frontispiece of the present number of the Family Magazine, represents the defeat of General Braddock. The artist, Mr. J. G. Chapman, has selected for the subject of his design, the moment that General Braddock is carried from the field mortally wounded; Lieutenant Washington assuming the command, and with his Virginia troops, covering the retreat of the British, and saving the corps from utter annihilation. The best narrative of the action that we can present, is contained in the interesting Life of Washington, by that distinguished author, J. K. Paulding, from which we quote as follows: General Braddock had landed at the capes of Virginia, and proceeded to Williamsburgh, the seat of government, where he consulted with Governour Dinwiddie. He inquired for Colonel Washington, with whose character he was well acquainted, and expressed a wish to see him. On being informed of his resignation, and the cause, he is said to have exclaimed, that "he was a lad of sense and spirit, and had acted as became a soldier and a man of honour." He immediately wrote him a pressing invitation to assume the situation of volunteer aiddecamp, which involved no question of rank, and which, after consultation with his family, was accepted. Washington once more resumed his military career, by joining the British forces at Belhaven. These were shortly after reinforced by three companies of Virginia riflemen, raised by an act of the legislature, and consisting of as brave hardy spirits as ever drew a trigger. This accession made the army about two thousand strong, and with these, in the month of June, 1755, Braddock set forth in his march through the wilderness, from whence he and many others of his companions never returned. The troops under Braddock marched in two divisions to the old station at the Little meadows. On the way, Washington was attacked by a fever, and vice of Washington, who wished to lead with his Virginians, the British grenadiers marched in front, about half a mile ahead; the Virginia troops followed; and the rest of the army brought up the rear. The ground was covered with whortleberry bushes reaching to the horses' bellies, until they gained the top of a hill, which commanded an extensive prospect far ahead. Here a council was held, during which, the traditionary authority I follow describes Braddock as standing with a fusee in his right hand, the breech on the ground, and rubbing the leaves with his toe, as if in great perplexity, without saying a word. The consultation over, they proceeded onward through the deep woods, the order of march being changed, and the infantry in advance. When within about seven miles of Fort Duquesne, and passing through a narrow defile, a fire from some ambushed enemy arrested their march, and laid many a soldier dead on the ground. Nothing was seen but the smoke of the unerring rifle rising above the tops of the woods, and nothing heard but the report of the fatal weapons. There was a dead silence among the savages and their allies, who, masked behind the trees, were equally invisible with the great king of terrours, whose work they were performing. The army of Braddock, and the general himself, were both taken by surprise, and the consequence was, a total neglect or forgetfulness of the proper mode of defence or attack. The army of Braddock suffered a total defeat. The survivors retreated across the Monongahela, where they rested, and the general breathed his last. His gallant behaviour during the trying situation in which he was placed, and his death, which in some measure paid the penalty of his foolhardihood, have preserved to his memory some little respect, and for his fate perhaps more sympathy than it merited. He was one of those military men of little character and desperate fortune, which became so ill, that the commanding officer insisted mother-countries are accustomed to send out, for upon his remaining until the rear of the army came up under Colonel Dunbar. He consented, much against his will; but the instant he was able, pushed on and joined Braddock the evening before he fell into that fatal ambuscade, where he perished with many other gallant spirits, not in a blaze of glory, but in the obscurity of the dismal forests. Washington, on rejoining the army, urged upon General Braddock the necessity of increasing and incessant caution. He dwelt much on the silent, unseen motions of the warriours of the woods, who come like birds on the wing, without being preceded by any indications of their approach, or leaving a trace behind them. But the fate of Braddock was decreed; or rather, his own conduct sealed that destiny which ever follows at the heels of folly and imprudence. He despised the advice of wisdom and experience, and bitterly did he suffer the penalty. The silly pride of a British officer disdained the lessons of a provincial youth, who had never fought on the bloody plains of Flanders. There can be no doubt that the superiority affected by the natives of England over those of the American colonies, was one of the silent yet effective causes of the Revolution. the purpose of foraging in the rich fields of their colonies. He was succeeded in his command by Colonel Dunbar, who ordered all the stores, except such as were indispensably necessary, to be destroyed, and sought safety, with the remainder of his European troops, in the distant repose of the city of Philadelphia, where he placed the army in winterquarters in the dog-days, leaving Virginia to the protection of her gallant rangers. The conduct of the British troops on this occasion, was, though perhaps natural in the terrible and untried situation in which they were placed, such as to excite the contempt of Washington and his provincials, to whom the escape of the surviving regulars was entirely owing. It was he and they that exclusively made head against the invisible enemy, and finally so checked his proceedings, as to secure a quiet retreat to a place of security. But for them, in all probability, scarce a man would have escaped. The British officers behaved with great gallantry, and upward of sixty of them were either killed or wounded; but the privates exhibited nothing but cowardice, confusion, and disobedience; and it seems quite probable that Washington here learned a secret which was of infinite service in his future career, by teaching him that British grenadiers were The army halted at Cumberland, for some days, and then proceeded to its ruin. Contrary to the ad- not invincible. The provincial troops, on the contrary, according to the testimony of Washington, "behaved like men," to use his own language. Out of three companies that were in the action, but thirty survived. The regulars, on the contrary, "ran away like sheep before hounds," leaving every thing to the mercy of the enemy. "When we endeavoured to rally them," continues Washington, in his letter to the governour of Virginia, "in hopes of regaining the ground we had lost, and what was left on it, it was with as little success, as if we had attempted to have stopped the wild bears of the mountain, or the rivulets with our feet." ILLUSTRATIONS OF SCRIPTURE. 3 [The Olive-Tree-Olea Europœа] In the olive-yards of France, the olive-tree generally attains the height of eighteen or twenty-five feet, with a diameter of six inches to two feet. It ramifies at a small height, and forms a compact rounded summit. The foliage is of a pale, empoverished verdure, and the general appearance of the tree is not unlike that of a common willow which has been lopped, and which has acquired a new summit of three or four years growth. The main limbs of the olive are numerously divided; the branches are opposite, and the pairs are alternately placed upon conjugate axes of the limb. The foliage is evergreen, but a part of it turns yel the main stem without a foot-stalk, opposite and alternate in the manner of the branches. The olive is slow in blooming, as well as in every function of vegetable life. The buds begin to appear about the middle of April, and the bloom is not full before the end of May, or the beginning of June. The flowers are small, white, slightly odoriferous, and disposed in axillary racemes or clusters. A peduncle about as long as the leaf, issues from its base, upon which the flowers are supported by secondary pedicles, like those of the common currant. Sometimes the clusters are almost as numerous as the leaves, and garnish the tree with wanton luxuriance; at others they are thinly scattered over the branches, or seen only at the extremity. It is essential to remark, that they are borne by the shoots of the preceding year. The fruit of the olive is called by botanists a drupe. It is composed of pulpy matter enveloping a stone, or ligneous shell, containing a kernel. The olive is egg-shaped, pointed at the extremity, from six to ten lines in diameter, in one direction, and from ten to fifteen in the other; on the wild tree, it hardly exceeds the size of the red currant. The skin is smooth, and, when ripe, of a violet colour; but in certain varieties, it is yellowish or red. The pulp is greenish, and the stone is oblong, pointed and divided into two cells, one of which is usually void. The oil of the olive is furnished by the pulp. which is a characteristick almost peculiar to this fruit; in other oleaginous vegetables, it is extracted from the seed. The young olives, set in June, increase in size, and remain green through the summer, begin to change colour early in October, and are ripe at the end of November, or in the beginning of December. On the wild-olive, five or six drupes are ripened upon each peduncle; but on the cultivated tree, a great part of the flowers are abortive, and the green fruit is cast at every stage of its growth, so that rarely more than one or two germes upon a cluster arrive at maturity. From its resinous and oleaginous nature, the olivewood is eminently combustible, and burns as well before, as after it is dried. The value of its fruit renders this property unimportant. This tree may be multiplied by all the modes that are in use for the propagation of trees, and requires but little care in the cultivation, and produces fruit once in two years. This fruit, the modern Greeks, during Lent, eat in its ripe state, without any preparation, but a little pepper, or salt and oil. But olives are chiefly cultivated for the sake of the oil that they produce, which is not a profitable article of commerce, but forms a principal one of low and falls in the summer, and in three years it is food to the inhabitants of the places where these completely renewed. In the spring or early autumn, trees are found. This oil is contained in the pulp the season when vegetation is in its greatest activ-only, as before observed, whereas other fruits have ity, the young leaves put forth immediately above it in the nut or kernel. It is obtained by simple the cicatrix of the former leaf-stalks, and are dis- pressure, in the following manner. The olives are tinguished by their suppleness, and by the freshness first bruised by a millstone, and afterward put into of their teint. The colour of their leaves varies in a sack, and then into the trough of a press for the the different varieties of the olive, but they are gen- purpose, which, by means of turning a strong screw, erally smooth, and of a light green above, whitish forces all the strong liquor out, which is called virgin and somewhat downy, with a prominent rib beneath. oil. It is received in vessels half filled with water, On most of the cultivated varieties, they from from which it is taken off, and set apart in earthen fifteen lines to two inches long, and from six to jars. Several coarser kinds are obtained afterward, twelve lines broad, narrow, with both ends acute, by adding hot water to the bruised fruit. even and whole at the edge, placed immediately on are Naturalist. THE VALLISNERIA, OR PLANT OF THE RHONE. THE beautiful plant represented in the above engraving, a species of water-lily, strikingly illustrates the design evident in the peculiar adaptation of the animal or plant to the circumstances in which it is placed. on the surface of the water, and rotting, when the depth decreases and leaves a foot or two of naked stalk, which is unable to support itself? All this is provided for by nature, or rather by God the Creator, who, with apparent wisdom and intention, has made the stalk which supports the flower of this plant, of such a form and texture, that it, at all times, suits itself to the depth of the water it is in; for the stalks are not straight, but twisted in a spiral form, in the manner of a corkscrew, or rather in the manner of those springs of wire, which we see made by wrapping wire round a small stick. By this formation, the stalks of the vallisneria have a power of extending and contracting themselves in length, and this so suddenly, that let the rise or fall of the water be ever so quick, the lengthening or shortening of the stalks accompanies it; and the same formation suits them in a yet easier manner to the different depths. By this formation, the like of which is not seen in any other plant in Nature, the flower of this singular vegetable is kept just at the surface of the water, be the depth what it will, or the changes in the depth ever so sudden. By these means, the sun has power to ripen the flower till the seeds are scattered on the surface of the water in perfect ripeness, where they float a little while; but when thoroughly wet, sink and take root at the bottom. This plant consists of a small root, with a few long leaves rising from it, and in the midst of them a stalk of two or three feet in length, but so weak, that it is by no means able to support itself erect. On the top of each stalk is one single flower, in some degree resembling a single flower from a bunch of jessamine. It appears to be the purpose of Nature, and it is absolutely necessary to the well-being of the plant, that every part of it should be immersed in water, except just the flower at the top of the stalk. But these flowers must be always kept above the water; and the heat of the sun is requisite to the opening of the seeds contained in the base of them. Now the Rhone, wherein this plant grows in great abundance, is a river of very uncertain depth, and that in places very near one another: if the seeds of this plant, or the side-shoots from the roots, produce new ones at different depths, how is the flower to be carried to the top, and only just to the top of the water in each? The Rhone is also of all rivers the most apt to be swelled by sudden floods; in this case how is the plant that was just flowering in its proper manner, at To prove to ocular demonstration what is said of four feet depth, to be kept in the necessary state of this plant, several of them have been put into vessels having that flower above water, when the depth is of water, some of them with stalks so long that one increased to six? Or how is it to be kept from falling | half of them was above the surface of the water; others with them so snort, that they were immersed several inches under it: but in a few hours they had each adapted the length of their stalks to the depth, and the flower of every one was floating just on the surface. Surely this is a wonderful contrivance, and speaks a language in favour of Providence, which is incontrovertible! COD-FISHING. ALTHOUGH I had seen, as I thought, abundance of fish along the coasts of the Floridas, the numbers which I found in Labrador quite astonished me. Should your surprise, while reading the following statements be as great as mine was, while observing the facts related, you will conclude, as I have often done, that Nature's means for providing small animals for the use of larger ones, and vice versa, are as ample as is the grandeur of that world which she has so curiously constructed. has breakfast, consisting of coffee, bread, and meat, ready for the captain and the whole crew, by three o'clock every morning, excepting Sunday. Each person carries with him his dinner ready cooked, which is commonly eaten on the fishing-grounds. Thus, at three in the morning, the crew are prepared for their day's labour, and ready to betake themselves to their boats, each of which has two oars and lugsails. They all depart at once, and either by rowing or sailing, reach the banks to which the fishes are known to resort. The little squadron drop their anchors at short distances from each other, in a depth of from ten to twenty feet, and the business is immediately commenced. Each man has two lines, and each stands in one end of the boat, the middle of which is boarded off to hold the fish. The baited lines have been dropped into the water, one on each side of the boat; their leads have reached the bottom, a fish has taken the hook, and after giving the line a slight jerk, the fisherman hauls up his prize with a continued pull, throws the fish athwart a small round bar of iron placed near his back, which forces open the mouth, while the weight of the body, however small the fish may be, tears out the hook. The bait is still good, and over the side the line again goes, to catch another fish, while that on the left is now drawn up, and the same course pursued. In this manner, a fisher busily plying at each end, the operation is continued until the boat is so laden, that her gunwale is brought within a few inches of the surface, when they return to the vessel in harbour, seldom distant more than eight miles from the banks. The coast of Labrador is visited by European as well as American fishermen, all of whom are, I believe, entitled to claim portions of fishing-ground, assigned to each nation by mutual understanding. For the present, however, I shall confine my observations to those of our own country, who, after all, are probably the most numerous. The citizens of Boston, and many other of our eastern seaports, are those who chiefly engage in this department of our commerce. Eastport, in Maine, sends out every year a goodly fleet of schooners and "pickaxes" to Labrador, to procure cod, mackerel, halibut, and sometimes herring, the latter being caught in the intermediate space. The vessels from that port, and others in Maine and Massachusetts, sail as soon as the warmth of spring has freed the gulf of ice, that is, from the beginning of May to that of June. of the nation, and other matters similarly connected. During the greater part of the day, the fishermen have kept up a constant conversation, of which the topicks are the pleasure of finding a good supply of cod, their domestick affairs, the political prospects A vessel of one hundred tuns or so, is provided Now the repartee of one elicits a laugh from the with a crew of twelve men, who are equally expert other; this passes from man to man, and the whole as sailors and fishers, and for every couple of these flotilla enjoy the joke. The men of one boat strive hardy tars, a Hampton boat is provided, which is to outdo those of the others in hauling up the great est quantity of fish in a given time, and this forms another source of merriment. The boats are generally filled about the same time, and all return together. Arrived at the vessel, each man employs a pole armed with a bent iron, resembling the prong of a lashed on the deck, or hung in stays. Their provision is simple, but of good quality, and it is very seldom that any spirits are allowed; beef, pork, and biscuit, with water, being all they take with them. The men are supplied with warm clothing, waterproof oiled jackets and trousers, large boots, broadbrimmed hats with a round crown, and stout mittens, hay-fork, with which he pierces the fish, and throws with a few shirts. The owner or captain furnishes it with a jerk on deck, counting the number thus them with lines, hooks, and nets, and also provides discharged, with a loud voice. Each cargo is thus the bait best adapted to ensure success. The hold safely deposited, and the boats instantly return to of the vessel is filled with casks of various dimen- the fishing-ground, when, after anchoring, the men sions, some containing salt, and others for the oil that may be procured. eat their dinner and begin anew. There, good reader, with your leave, I will let them pursue their avocations for awhile, as I am anxious that you should witness what is doing on board the vessel. The captain, four men, and the cook, have, in the course of the morning, erected long tables fore and employed. The wages of fishermen vary from six- most of the salt-barrels, and have placed in a row teen to thirty dollars per month, according to the their large empty casks, to receive the livers. The qualifications of the individual. hold of the vessel is quite clear, except a corner The bait generally used at the beginning of the season, consists of muscles salted for the purpose; but as soon as the capelings reach the coast, they are substituted to save expense; and in many instances, the flesh of gannets and other sea-fowls is aft the main hatchway, they have taken to the shore The labour of these men is excessively hard, for, where is a large heap of salt. And now the men, unless on Sunday, their allowance of rest in the having dined precisely at twelve, are ready with twenty-four hours, seldom exceeds three. The their large knives. One begins with breaking off cook is the only person who fares better in this re- the head of the fish, slight pull spect, but he must also assist in curing the fish. He gash with the knife effecting this in a moment. He a of the hand and a slits up its belly, with one hand pushes it aside to his neighbour, then throws overboard the head, and begins to prepare another. The next man tears out the entrails, separates the liver, which he throws into a cask, and casts the rest overboard. A third person dexterously passes his knife beneath the vertebræ of the fish, separates them from the flesh, heaves the latter through the hatchway, and the former into the water. Now, if you will peep into the hold, you will see the last stage of the process, the salting and packing, Six experienced men generally manage to head, gut, bone, salt and pack, all the fish caught in the morning, by the return of the boats with fresh cargoes, when all hands set to work, and clear the deck of the fish. Thus their labours continue until twelve o'clock, when they wash their faces and hands, put on clean clothes, hang their fishing-apparel on the shrouds, and, betaking themselves to the forecastle, are soon in a sound sleep. At three, next morning, comes the captain from his birth, rubbing his eyes, and in a loud voice calling: "All hands, ahoy!" Stiffened in limb, and but half awake, the crew quickly appear on the deck. Their fingers and hands are so cramped and swollen by pulling the lines, that it is difficult for them to ashore at the new harbour, by part of the crew, whom the captain has marked as the worst hands at fishing. There, on the bare rocks, or on elevated scaffolds of considerable extent, the salted cods are laid side by side to dry in the sun. They are turned several times a day, and in the intervals the men bear a hand on board at clearing and stowing away the daily produce of the fishing-banks. Toward evening, they return to the drying-grounds, and put up the fish in piles resembling so many haystacks, disposing those toward the top in such a manner that the rain cannot injure them, and placing a heavy stone on the summit to prevent their being thrown down should it blow hard during the night. You see, reader, that the life of a Labrador fisherman is not one of idleness. The capelings have approached the shores, and in myriads enter every basin and stream, to deposite their spawn, for now July is arrived. The cods follow them, as the bloodhound follows his prey, and their compact masses literally line the shores. The fishermen now adopt another method: they have brought with them long and deep seines, one end of which is, by means of a line, fastened to the shore, while the other is, in the usual manner, drawn out in a broad sweep, to enclose as great a space as straighten even a thumb; but this matters little at possible, and hauled on shore by means of a cappresent; for the cook, who had a good nap yester- stan. Some of the men in boats support the corked day, has risen an hour before them, and prepared part of the net, and beat the water, to frighten the their coffee and eatables. Breakfast despatched, fishes within toward the land, while others, armed they exchange their clean clothes for the fishing- with poles, enter the water, hook the fishes, and apparel, and leap into their boats, which had been fling them on the beach, the net being gradually washed the previous night, and again the flotilla bounds to the fishing-ground. As there may be not less than a hundred schooners or pickaxes in the harbour, three hundred boats resort to the banks each day; and, as each boat may procure two thousand cods per diem, when Saturday night comes, about six hundred thousand fishes have been brought to the harbour. This having caused some scarcity on the fishing-grounds, and Sunday being somewhat of an idle day, the captain collects the salt ashore, and sets sail for some other convenient harbour, which he expects to reach long before sunset. If the weather be favourable, the men get a good deal of rest during the voyage, and on Monday things go on as before. I must not omit to tell you, reader, that, while proceeding from one harbour to another, the vessel has passed near a rock, which is the breeding-place of myriads of puffins. She has laid to for an hour or so, while part of the crew have landed, and collected a store of eggs, excellent as a substitute for cream, and not less so when hard boiled as food for the fishing-grounds. I may as well inform you, also, how these adventurous fellows distinguish the fresh eggs from the others. They fill up some large tubs with water, throw in a quantity of eggs, and allow them to remain a minute or so, when those which come to the surface are tossed overboard, and even those that manifest any upward tendency, share the same treatment. All that remain at bottom, you may depend upon it, good reader, are perfectly sound, and not less palatable than any that you have ever eaten, or that your best guinea-fowl has just dropped in your barn-yard. But let us return to the cod fish. drawn closer as the number of fishes diminishes. What do you think, reader, as to the number of cods secured in this manner at a single haul?-thirty, or thirty thousand? You may form some notion of the matter when I tell you that the young gentlemen of my party, while going along the shores, caught codfish alive, with their hands, and trouts, of many pounds weight, with a piece of twine and a mackerel-hook hung to their gun-rods; and that, if two of them walked knee-deep along the rocks, holding a handkerchief by the corners, they swept it full of capelings. Should you not trust me in this, I refer you to the fishermen themselves, or recommend you to go to Labrador, where you will give credit to the testimony of your eyes. The "seining" of the cod-fish, I believe, is not quite lawful, for a great proportion of the codlings which are dragged ashore at last, are so small as to be considered useless; and, instead of being returned to the water, as they ought to be, are left on the shore, where they are ultimately eaten by bears, wolves, and ravens. The fishes taken along the coast, or on fishing-stations only a few miles off, are of small dimensions; and I believe I am correct in saying, that few of them weigh more than two pounds, when perfectly cured, or exceed six, when taken out of the water. The fish are liable to several diseases, and at times are annoyed by parasitick animals, which in a short time render them lean and unfit for use. Some individuals, from laziness, or other causes, fish with naked hooks, and thus frequently wound the cod without securing them, in consequence of which, the shoals are driven away, to the detriment of the other fishers. Some carry their cargoes to The fish already procured and salted, is taken other parts before drying them, while others dispose |