American watchman and Delaware advertiser. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1822-1828, 1822-05-21
From The N'ezO York Statesman.
MISS MsCREA.

"Lucindas fate the tale We nations, hear,
Eternal ages tell it with a ar."--BARLow.
The remains OF this interesting and unfortunate
lady, who was massacred by the Indians in the cam
paign OF l777 have lately been disntered by an as
ISOLATION of young gentlemen Of Washington coun
ty and deposited in the church yard at Fort Edward,
in the presence OF crowd of spectators. Her bones
were found to be little decomposed and the marks
of the tomahawk are said to have been still visible
upon her skull. Although the removal of her ashes
was undoubtedly intended as mark of respect, we
cannot but think it manifested want of taste -
The spot where she slept romantic, sequester-
ed and char ming and its scenery harmonlzed with
the story of her misfortunes. 1t is thus described
in Sliman's Tour TO Quebec:
This beautiful spring, (where size fell which
still flows, limpid and cool, from bank near the
road side; and this fatal tree Ito which she tied
we saw. The tree, which is large and ancient
pine, fit for the mast of some tall admiral" is
wounded in many places by the balls of the whites
fired at the Indians; they have been dug out as far
as they could be reached, but others still remain in
the ancient tree, which seems striking emblem OF
wounded innocence; and the trunk, twisted off at a
considerable elevation by some violent wind that has
lett only few mutilated branches, is happy, al
though painful memorial of the fate of JENNIE M
Crea. Her name is inscribed on the tree, with the
date IVY; and no traveller passes this spot without
spending plaintive moment in contemplating the
untimely fate Of youth and loneliness"
Our readers will find the story we'll told in the
work from which the above is extract; also IL
the sixth book of the Columbiad and in Marshall.
Life of Washington. AT the suggestion Of one O.
the city papers that the subject susceptible o
poetlcal establishment, FLoRIo has handed us the
following beautiful lines, the last stanza of which is
an Imfiromfitu, written in moment to accord with
an idea expressed in the foregoing remarks.
Her lover is coming, her bosom throbs high
And love beams enchantngly bright in her eye;
This night, she exclaims before heavens pure shrine
My warrior youth is forever made mine
Is that his dear form stealing slow through The shade
lst thus he would come to his own beloved maid
oh, no. tits the savage-death flies from his bow
And lfe's current suies her bosom of snow.
The night winds are up with the gathering storm;
They wave her dark tresses, they chill her soft
form
Cold, cold is her heart, once so Joyous and light,
Her eye of soft wildness no longer is bright
| The bridal beds ready but where is the BRIDE
The death drops have gathered and rolled from her
side.
The grave is her bridal.bed,-gone is her bloom,
And her morning of brightness hath ended in gloom
| Her lover is coming-he speeds on the way,
He chides the dull moments of tedious delay.
Hope beats in his breast for that heavenly hour,
Which gives him forever his hearts beloved howr.
He reaches the spot-she is stretched on the BIER
! No sigh rends his bosom, he sheds not tear;
/ But dumb with deep anguish, he hurries amain
! And lies on the battlefield, ghastly and slain.
i Letherrest where she fell in her beautiful prime,
II Ere the bloom of her cheek had been withered BY
i time;-
BY the clear flowing spring let her relics recine;
| And her eptath still be engraved on the pine.
| FLORIO.