Article #89 - A Dream

            One beautiful summer evening as I sat contemplating the bright fleecy clouds as they silently stole across and veiled the majestic beauty of the Goddess of the night. Sleep insensibly stole upon me. the cares of the day were forgotten, and I was soon roving amid the flowery haunts of the dominions of Morpheus. I thought I stood upon the banks of the Susquehannah and gazed delighted upon its dark waters now calm as an infants sleep now roused by some light breeze that swept o’er its still expanse. the prospect that lay before me was wild and beautiful as the scenery of some fairy dream. in the distance was seen the substancial [sic] farm house with here and there a white Cottage half concealed by the clustering vines and trees. Beautiful I exclaimed is this earth which was given for the habitation of man. Thou speakest truly, said a voice and turning I beheld a female standing by my side. but its beauty is not perfect. when the great Architect spoke the word of command light burst upon the new born world. then it was

beautiful. its dark green sod had never been dyed with the life blood of slaughtered millions. the

groans of the dying had never ascended with the breeze that swept o’er its Oak clad hills. that was perfect beauty. the great author looked upon it and pronounced it good. but a change sadly dark has stolen o’er it. She paused, and a shade of deep sadness rested upon her expressive countenance. Who is it said I with earnestness, by whom I am thus addressed. I am called said she, the spirit of the past. over the present and future I have no control but it is mine to treasure

the past. many a lesson of deep meaning I gain from Oblivion. wouldst thou be benefitted by them. most willingly I replied. We will go back seventy years into the past. tell me what thou seest. I see this green valley, said I and the dark waters of the Brandywine wandering through it. on yon gentle knoll stands the Quaker meeting house beautiful in its rustic simplicity altogether it is a lovely scene. Listen, said she, I did so, and my ear was startled by a sound like the

thundering of a distant cataract. nearer it approached and soon burst upon my sight the Continental army fraught with all the beauty of military array. as they swept the earth trembled with the steady tread of marching millions. to the south was seen to advance the British host and soon the tragedy of death began.fearful was the clash of bayonets the thunder of artillery. the fierce neigh of each warror’s steed mingled with the groans of the dying towards us. the waters of the Brandywine were darkened by the life blood of the brave and true hearts. what thinkest thou now. dost thou call that beautiful. as she spoke the scene vanished and I found myself standing on the banks of the Susquehannah. Now I will show thee the perfidity [sic] of many in a moment we stood by the sea side before me stretched the blue expanse of waters now lit up by the last flash of sunset. behind was an impenetrable forest. I gazed in silent admiration on the scene when suddently [sic] a wild fawn bounded from the forest and fell dead at my feet. I gazed with pity on the beautiful creature panting with the death struggle when I beheld a dark form emerging from among the trees and approached the bleeding fawn. he was of almost gigantic height whose sinewy proportions uniting strength and grace might have been the envy of an Apollo he was armed only with his Tomahawk and Bow. yet there was a calm dignity in his look that [struck] the beholder with awe. Near the shore was anchored two small vessels from which a boat was manned and sent on shore. upon seeing which the Indian advanced and stood upon the

beach as the white men landed he bade them welcome conducted them through the forest to his

home where he supplied them with food and drink and the comforts which h[is r]ude hut afforded. he told them they were welcome to the land o’er which they roamed. that the great spirit had given it to them and enough for both. how were they repaid. many a scene my preceptress depict[ed] of the midnight slaug[h]ter, of the Indians burning Wigwam until they were forced to forsake the home of their fathers “Now dost thou see that the beauty of this is not perfect” said she, and suddenly vanished. as I stood  musing on what I had seen and heard, another being stood before me “wouldst thou behold the country as it now is. I am called the Present said she I can show the scenes of the struggle for Freedom. I will show thee how it has been gained. as she spoke we stood upon the banks of the Altamaha around us lay a far extending plantation covered with the waving cotton on one side lay the Dismal Rice Swamp” say seest thou not yon wretched being said she I looked and beheld buisly [sic] engaged in the culture of

this plantation human beings of the most miserable appearance may [sic] eyes had ever beheld the sun’s almost scorching rays descended unobscured upon their lacerated bodies. no pause or respite was known to them for if they but pause the drivers lash was the consequence my heart sickened at the sight. I turned to my guide and she was silent. Come with me, said she. I obeyed she led me to a cluster of miserable huts the abodes of those wretched creatures. at the door of

one of which stood a man of repulsive features and determined look. “Come said he in a presumptory [sic] tone, as he turned towards the door. Oh God would you sell my boy exclaimed an agonized mother as she frantic[al]ly clasped a boy of some ten years who stood by her side three already have you taken you will not take my last my only one. but his heart had become hardened to pity’s tears Have done, he exclaimed angrily I am not disposed to humour

your foolish whims so saying he forcibly arrested the child from her frantic embrace and turned away accompanied by the weeping boy. This the freedom that thy sires have fallen to win said my conductor with a bitter smile. for the widows sorrowing tear the orphans lonely lot. the scene vanished and we stood in the far extended Prairie of the west I looked around and naught was seen but a vast plain covered with tall rank grass which waved with every passing breeze in the distance was seen the Blue Mountains with their snowclad summits. desolate indeed was the prospect. but my attention was arrested by a low deep voice and turning I beheld an Indian standing in a cluster of trees at my side he was leaning against an oak which spread its dark green branches over his head there was upon his marked countenance an expression of sadness at his feet lay his bow over his athletic frame was thrown a wild deers hide, “Oh cruel reverse, he cried with the strong savage assent [accent?] Once free and unrestrained we roamed through the dark forests far toward the rising sun. but the White Mans barques came from a far off land. the Indians heart was touched by their stories they told of their misfortunes. they bade them welcome to the land that the Great Spirit had given them. but the White Man was ungrateful he slew them. the Indian had but his tomahawk and bow they had fire arms. bravely they fought but the White Man conquered. the Indians were forced to forsake the land of their fathers and retire towards the setting sun. He ceased a tear trembled in his dark eye but by a strong effort it was suppressed and he turned away in silence. The scene vanished and with it my conductor. I awoke, the bright day had gone, the stars had each resumed their nightly watch the low humming of insects and the shadowy twilight was around me. long I mused upon my strange dream and many a lesson of deep meaning have I gained therefrom.

[Here ends the stitched-together pamphlet.]