Eaton Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1843-1856, 1855-04-12
LOST SISTER OF WYOMING ;
Or, the Captivity Of Frances slceum.


ges who, with barbariiy seldom equslled,
laid waste and DESTROYED every vestige of that
lovely settlement, numbering the inhabitants
and driving off their cattle, was Quaker by
the name Of Jonathan Slocum, whose peace
ful disposition and many acts Of kindness to
the Indians, saved his dwelling from the torch,
and his family from annoyance, while lis
neighbors were butchered, their houses burnt,
and their children taken captive. This i'm
punity, however was Of short duration. Mr..
Slocum had son, Giles, who was in the bat
tie, and Ii is supposed that The Indians, be-
coming aware OF this fact, determined on q
bloody revenge. In the family OF Mr.. S. was
the vile OF O neighbor, who had been taken
captive by the Indians, and her two sons, one
Hiteen, the other twelve years of age. Que
morning IN November, some four months after
the bloody massacre which made the valley
desolation, party Of redskin warriors was
seen prowling around The vicinity Of Wilkes
barre Fort. The two boys had gone 10 the
grlndstone 10 sharpen knife, and the women
were engaged in their domestic duties, when
Mrs. S'ocum was startled by shot, and a
shrek from one Of The boys. Stepping to the
door, she beheld swarthy warrior, in the act
of scalping the Oldest boy with the knife he
had been grinding. Horror stricken at the
sight, she staggered back, and was followed
by the Indian, with the still warm and reek ing
scalp in his hands. Looking about him for
plunder, he discovered nothing to tempt his
cupidity worth the risk Of carrying off, but
little son Of Mrs. Slocum, who stood in his
way as he turned to the door. Selling him
in his arms, he was about to depart, when
Mrs. S., with all a mothers feeling, caught
him by the arm and besought him, in tones of
earnest entreaty, not to deprive her Of her boy.
''See % said she, "he can do thee no good,
he is lame" Dropping the boy, he took up a
little daughter of five years, who had crouch
ell in fear behind high backed chair, and
was making his way out when the mother
again stopped him and plead for her child. In
the most pathetic tones, she implored him to
leave her bright eyed darling the light of her
home, and the JOY Of her household. As well
might she have wasted her words upon the
stern rocks or the idle wind (; the rugged ma
ture Of the savage was not 10 be moved by the
earnest appeals of the pale faced squaw.-
Grasping with one hand the mantle which en-
wrapped him, and with the other the dress of
her child, she chung 10 both with tensciiy
which had well nigh accomplished her pur-
pose. Finding himself impeded in his exit,
and fearful Of approaching assistance, the
savage drew his tomahawk, and raised it to
finish, at blow, her importantly and her life.
Reading in his eyes his stern determination,
and wrought 10 pitch Of agony beyond which
her system refused TO 60, she yielded her
grasp, and sank in swoon at his feet. The
Indian, relieved Of her annoyance, now took
his departure, with little Frances in his arms,
and as he passed through the yard, seized upon
the other son of Mrs. Kingsley whom he also
bore off prisoner. All this was but the scene
OF few moments, yet how much Of terror,
and heart breaking agony was embraced within
that short period OF time. How many years
OF terrible suspense and deep despair, had
their birth in those few brief moments Mrs.
Kingsley, who had stood, terrified beholder
OF the scene, when she saw her secord and
only living child torn from her and carried
into captivity, sank under The affection and
gave herself up to . solid apathy, little short
Of despair. One Of Mrs. Slocum's children
had, with a sagaciiy beyond her yeas, at the
first appearance Of the Savages, snalched up
the youngest child and fed TO the Fort, where
she gave The alarm. and party started at once
for the house, but the Indians were already
beyond the reach of successful pursuit.
In short time after the above melan choly
bereavement, Mrs. Slocum was called upon
to part with her husband and father, who were
both shot and scslped bya party of Indians,
while fodderpg cattle near The house. Thus,
in the short space of six weeks, was tho: happy
household broken up and destroyed, and It's
surviving members wra ped in misery as with
a mantle. Her religion sustained Mrs. Slocum
in her day Of trial, and she threw herself and
her nine remaining children upon the mercy
Of her Heavenly Father, and bowed her head,
without murmur, 10 his DEGREES. For the |
dead she did not mourn they were at rest, |
and no sorrow or useless repinings could re-
store them to her again. But her lost daugh. |
ter, her darling Frances, was ever present in !
her thoughts. Like Rachel weeping for her |
children, she refused 10 be comforea, aud en-.
tertained lively hope that she would one day
be restored TO her arms oeain. Her spirits |
seemed buoyed up with this hope, and she |
lived in the anticipation Of again seeing her
and pressing her 10 her bosom. Days, months |
and years rolled on, and the lamp Of hope still |
burned as brightly os ever. No tGings had |
ever reached herof her child, and all gave her
up but her poor, heart stricken mother.-I
When peace was declared, and many captves |
returned 10 their homes and families, she sent |
two Of her sons to Canada in search of their |
long lost sister. They sought her wherever
there was the slightest chance OF her presence
they offered rewards for her recovery, but al,
in vain, and they returned to theirmother with
the cheerless idings, convinced of her dea tn.
Not so with her. She felt satisfied that her
Frances still lived, and would not lister TO any
other supposition. At length her long cher.
ished hope seemed about 10 be realized a
woman was found among the Indians, who |
had been carried AWAY when a child from the |
SuSqnehanna, and she was sent for by Mrs.
Slocum, who cherished her and epdeavored 10 |
feel that her child was restored. But the in.
visible link which binds mother 10 her off, |
spring was wanting, and the bereaved mother
was bereeved still. The founding, too, felt
that she was not the long lost and looked fer
daughter, and ultimately returned 10 her In
dian friends. Years rolled on. Time had
vhitened the locks of the confding mother
with age; her sons had passed the meridian
OF life, ard their children had grown to man.
hood, and yet she still entertained the belief
that her Frances lived. AT length she was
called away to join her husband in another
word, and she went ''down into the grave
mourning" that she was not permitted. this
side the grave, 10 embrace her darling.
Scme years after her death, when her broth.
ers were gray haired men, and when all had
ceas sed TO entertain thought OF the lost sis
ter, their feelings were aroused by an announce
ment which placed beyond question the fact
that she still lived, and remembered her for
mer home and friends. An Indian agent in
Ohio wrote to the editor Of one OF the news
papers in Pennsylvania, informing him that