“All that the priest and all the nurse had taught.”

Farewell.—­Believe me

Yours very sincerely, &c.,

* * * * *

Philadelphia, August 10th, 1794.

DEAR SIR,

Having a few weeks vacation at the theatre, we agreed upon a scheme to give three concerts at Lancaster, a town in Pennsylvania, about seventy miles west of this city.  Our band was small, but select; and our singers Darley, and miss Broadhurst.  We crossed the Scuylkill about two miles below the Falls.

The country, which, from the Atlantic to this spot, is nearly a level, now abruptly swells into hills, and rises as you advance westerly, till you reach the Allegany mountains, the great back bone of America, as the Indians call that chain of mountains.  There is then a considerable descent; but that the country rises afterward for many hundred miles is certain from the course of the rivers.  No traveller has penetrated so far west, in these latitudes, as to find a river which did not ultimately run into the Atlantic Ocean,

We slept about a mile from the Pioli.  I took a walk to reconnoitre the field of battle, with one who was present at that horrid affair.

General Wayne was here completely surprised, but had his revenge at Stoney Point.

After St. Claire’s defeat, he was appointed by Congress to the command of the continental army in the present indian war.  The fatal surprise at the Pioli has been an excellent lesson for him; since his present appointment he has established the most rigid discipline:  this is of the utmost consequence in any army; but particularly so in that he commands, as they have to contend with the most subtle and desperate foe on earth, flushed with their late victory over St. Claire.—­In a former indian war, an army lay with it’s rear and flanks well secured; a river three quarters of a mile broad in its front, and no enemy within fifty miles.  A body of Indians, being informed by their scouts of the situation of this army, made a forced march, crossed the river in the night, on rafts hastily constructed, completely surprised the camp before sun-rise in the morning, butchered all before them, and made their retreat good with their scalps and plunder, before the enemy recovered from the general consternation.  The system of military tactics Wayne has introduced is admirably adapted to the perilous service, in which he is engaged.  He fights the Indians in their own way, and scalps are now taken on both sides.—­There is expected to be warm work this campaign; and it is generally imagined Wayne will meet with the fate of Braddock and St. Clare.  A few military men I have discoursed with, are of another opinion; they tell me the rifle-men of the western army were recruited from Kentucky, and other remote settlements, and are all experienced back-woods-men, who have been great part of their lives in the habits of Indian fighting; that the general is forming a body of cavalry, on principles entirely new, from which much is expected; in short, that Wayne will oblige the Indians to bury the hatchet on his own terms.  The Indian war is not popular.  It has met with much opposition both in the General Assemblies of the States, and in Congress.