The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1846-07-25

Inc story OF indian anlmoslty is al
ways the same. Cornelius Campbell
left his hut for the fields early one brigh
balmy morning in June. Still lover
though ten years husband, his las
look was turned towards his wife an
swering her parting smile--his last &C.
ton kiss for each of his Children
But when he returned to dinner they
were dead-all dead! and tl.eir dlsfg
ured bodies too cruelty shadowed thai
an Indians hand had done the work
In such mind, grief, like all other
emotions, was tempestuous. Home had
been to him the only verdant spot in
the wide desert Of life.
In his wife and children he had gar
nered up all his heart; and now they
were torn from him, the remembrance
of their love clung to him like the death
grapple of a drowning man, sinking
him down into darkness and death!
This was followed bya calm thous.
and times more terribe--the creeping
agony of despair. that brings with 1t no
power of resistance.
"It was as if the dead could feel
The icy worm around him steal"
Such, for many days, was the state
of Cornelius Campbell. Those who
knew and reverenced him, feared that
the spark of reason was for ever extin-
guished. But it rekindled again; and
with it came wild, demoniac spirit Of
revenge. The death-groan of Choco-
rua would make him smile in his
dreams; and when he walked death see
med too pitilul vengeance for the an
gulsh that was eating into his very soul.
Chocorua's brethren were absent on
hunting trip at the time he committed
the murder; and those who watched his
movements observed that he frequently
cllmed the high precipice, which after
wards took his name, probably looking
out for indications of their return.
Here Cornelius Campbell resolved to
effect his deadly purpose. A party
was formed under his guidance, to cut
off all chance of retreat, and the dark
minded prophet was to be hunted like
wild beast to his lair, and if possible,
avenge the wrongs of Cornelius Camp
bell.
The morning sun had scarce cleared
away the fogs, when Chocorua sta. ted
at loud voice from beneath the prec-
pice, commanding HIM to throw himself
into the deep abyss below. He knew
the voice of his enemy, and replied with
an Indians calmness. " The Great
Spirit gave life to Chocorua; and Cho-
corua will not throw it away at the
command of white man."
"Then hear the Great Spirit speak
in the white mans thunder!" cxclaim-
ed Cornelius Campbell as he pointed
his gun to the precipice. Chocorua,
though fierce and fearless as panther,
had never overcome his dread of fire
arms. He placed his hands upon his
ears to shut out the stunning report;
the next moment the blood bubbled from
his neck, and he reeled fearfulIy on the
edge of the precipice. But he recov-
cred himself, and raising himself on his
hands, he spoke in loud voice that
grew more terrific as its huskiness in
creased. A curse upon ye, white men!
May the Great spirit curse We when
he speaks in The clouds, and his words
are fire! Chocorua had son -and ye
killed him while the sky looked bright!
blast your crops! Wind and
ire destroy your dwellings! The Evil
Spirit breathe death upon your cattle!
Your graves lie in the war-path of the
indian! Panthers how, ,and may wolves
atten over your bones! Chocorua goes
% the Great Spirit-his curse stays
with the. white men forever!
The prophet sunk upon the ground,
It'll uttering inaudible curses-and they
eft his bones to whiten in the sun. But
lis curse rested on the settlement.
The tomahawk and scalping knife
we're busy among them, the winds tore
Up the trees and hurled them at their
lwellings,their crops were blasted their
attle died, and sickness came upon
heir strongest men. At last the rem
lant Of them departed from the fatal
pot to mingle with more populous and
colonies. Cornelins Camp
'ell became a hermit, seldom seeking
II seeing his fellow men; and two years
fterwards he was found dead in his hut.
To this day the town of Burton, in
lew Hampshire, is remarkable for a
estilence, injecting its cattle; and the
uperstnious think that Chocorua's
pirit still sits enthroned upon his preci-
ice.
John Smith has said many good
lings, and among the rest, that a
newspaper is like wife, because ev
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