(Fig. 10) more than four feet high. It is without ears, and its mouth is covered by a square block similar to that seen in the Chitchan images of baked earth, as if to impose absolute reserve upon those who returned from this religious pilgrimage.

Such are the remarkable aboriginal monuments inclosed by the little valley of San Augustin; and it is interesting to consider not only the origin but what might have been the fate of this growing people, just passing from the nomadic to the sedentary life, when they were swept from the face of the land where they had already formed the nucleus of a nation and established a common religion. Dispersed by the Spanish conquest, hurled back upon the interminable forests of the Amazon, the Andaquies have retrograded to the most complete barbarism. There is little difference between them and the wild animals with which they dispute the dominion of these vast and gloomy solitudes. The women marry at the tenderest age, are mothers at twelve, and solely adorned with a shell suspended from the loins, instead of the biblical fig-leaf, as an insignia of their condition, they begin the ungrateful and abject life of a beast of burden. The intense heat renders clothing of any kind unnecessary, but the men frequently wear an apron and head-dress of the brilliant plumage of tropical birds. The height of beauty consists in removing every vestige of eyebrow and hair from the body, painting it in variously colored streaks, and staining the teeth black. The lips and nose are pierced by sharppointed sticks or thorns, and strings of jaguär or puma teeth ornament their necks. The features of these poor creatures indicate neither grace, sensibility, nor elevation of soul; they are born, live, and die in the most absolute ignorance; and of mankind, it may be affirmed, they have only the image. In these regions, adds Codazzi, man is dominated by the gigantic, overwhelming, irrational creation, and even the European, reduced to his individual efforts, would become a barbarian on a par with the Indian.

Henry Rawan Sunly

SOME OF THE BEGINNINGS OF DELAWARE

WILMINGTON SETTLED BY THE SWEDES, 1638

The first Swedish settlement in America determined the location of the city of Wilmington, Delaware, if not its actual existence, and was largely instrumental in giving a state to the Union, thus making a notable addition to the galaxy of stars in our beautiful flag.

Wilmington now contains sixty-five thousand inhabitants, with a constant yearly increase, and it is divided into twelve wards with two hundred and thirty-one streets. It is a city furnished with every appliance of growing life and, when the saloons are extinct, of peaceful, prosperous, and happy life. Herein are found all varieties of business, benevolent and literary institutions. It has public schools, churches, cemeteries, public buildings, hotels, restaurants, newspapers, authors, and publishing houses. Besides these there is no end to its industrial works of every characterno human want that cannot be supplied. The finest ships, steamboats, pleasure yachts, and all kinds of water-craft are here made and launched; cars, carriages, wagons, agricultural machines, gunpowder, cotton, woolen, and leather goods, are manufactured; also electric light and power, and the smaller necessities of existence.

In 1629 two of the directors of the West India Company in Holland, Samuel Godyn and Samuel Blommaert, effected a purchase from the Indian chiefs of a beautiful tract of land on the Delaware river, extending from Cape Henlopen thirty-two miles up the west shore of Delaware bay, and opposite sixteen miles square, including Cape May. This embraced portions of the present Sussex and Kent counties. It was called Swaanendael. The title was attested by the Dutch governor, Peter Minuet, and his council, at New Amsterdam, July 15, 1630, and is the only instrument in existence which bears the original signature of that august body. Before the end of the year Godyn and Blommaert divided this Delaware property with Patroon Van Rensselaer, the historian De Laet, and Captain David Pieterson De Vries—who had just returned from a three years' voyage to the East Indies. The latter by request of the others took charge of an expedition to the Delaware, consisting of a colony of thirty Holland settlers fully equipped for the cultivation of tobacco and grain. They landed in the spring of 1631, and their fort was built and

their fields prepared and the first seed sown before Captain De Vries returned to Holland. When next he visited America, in 1633, he found that every settler had been massacred by the natives and the little fort totally destroyed. After various stratagems he succeeded in persuading some of the Indians to come on board his vessel, and through attractive presents drew from them the story of a terrible tragedy: an indiscretion of the commander of the post had been followed by savage vengeance, and the entire region of the Delaware was left without a white inhabitant. Lord Baltimore's grant of Maryland was given three years later, but because the land had been settled, though the colony was extinct, a bar was raised against his claim to the three lower counties of Pennsylvania, now forming the state of Delaware, and so it was decided in the English courts by Lord Hardwick in 1750, the long, sharp legal struggle not being ended till that date. Mason and Dixon's line, run in 1764, divided the two states.

The first Swedish colony, led by Peter Minuet, former governor of New Netherland, reached the shores of the Delaware in April, 1638. The contemplation of their long perils by the way inspires our glad sympathy as we see them in the midst of an early spring stepping ashore to breathe the sweet, warm air, and look upon leafy trees, springing grass, flowering shrubs, and climbing vines, welcomed by waving banners of Nature's own spinning and coloring. Their first landing was on a point between Murderkill and Mispillion creek in Kent county; and no wonder they called it "the Paradise," for such it must have seemed to the weary voyagers. Here they tarried a little for rest and refreshment, but soon the anchors were raised and the heavy sails spread to carry them onward in search of a permanent settlement. They passed the spots now known as Port Penn and Delaware city, taking cognizance of Reedy Island-though of the Pea Patch they probably saw nothing. Crossing that beautiful curve from Delaware city to Newcastle, they find the locality inviting, but to their agricultural eyes the sand-banks peeping out forbid their landing. They sail on, beckoned by the more enticing prospect, toward the north, east and westward. Within three or four miles they come to our creek, the Minquas, now called the Christiana, and if the tide is in they see a vast area of water, adorned here and there with wooded islands and promontories; but beyond the flood are ancient forests covering the long slopes, rising in gradual elevation toward the west and south. Scanning every mile they pass, this unrivaled picture captures the party, and observing the rich soil beneath the lofty growth of trees, all voices cry: "This is the place!" And Peter Minuet, from the high quarter-deck of the Key of Calmar, gives

the order, "Turn in here!" They sail by a winding channel two and a half miles, and there, to their unbounded surprise and delight, discover a wharf of level rock, of fifty paces front, lifted high and dry above the flood, a natural landing-place, with deep water at its base, and a commodious harbor running inward on the east side.

With what pleasure they step ashore-men, women, and children! And when the ships are secured, then come the officers and seamen. After putting up a covering they bring ashore their slender outfit of beds, tables, chairs, and kitchen vessels; and such an experienced commander as Peter Minuet doubtless placed his ships on guard with loaded guns pointed to the approaches, lest some concealed foe should appear. The Dutch, however, were not near enough to be feared, and a paper pellet from Governor Kieft at Manhattan, warning them off, was not as formidable as a cartridge. As for the Indians, the Swedes took care to conciliate them, and did it so effectually that, anticipating the good policy of William Penn, it is not known that a single man on either side was ever murderously killed by the other on our Delaware shores.

The two vessels which brought our brave Swedes to Delaware were the Key of Calmar and the transport Griffin, each well supplied with provisions, arms, ammunition, and merchandise for trade and gifts with the Indians. The Rev. Reorus Torkillus, a Lutheran minister, came with the settlers; also a schoolmaster and a chorister. Peter Minuet was governor, and Magnus Kling the royal surveyor.

These vessels had sailed from Gothbord, still to be found among the rocks off the Cattegat on the southwest coast of Sweden, August 12, 1637. Thus the voyage had been prolonged eight months, encountering the fall and spring storms and the winter cold. It was not, however, altogether owing to the slow sailing of those days, but rather to the fact that they had not learned the shortest route, making their tedious way by the Azores and the West Indies; and when we consider the cramped, cribbed vessels they came in, the hard-tack and salt meats, the hardships and dangers, the forsaking of home forever, the unknown shores, untilled lands, unbuilt dwellings, and unfelled forests swarming with dark-skinned savages, we must credit them with heroic minds and trustful hearts.

This humble expedition with its fifty colonists in two ships is not to be compared with a scheme for the same destination ten years before, which consisted of many vessels, with admiral, vice-admiral, subordinates, commissioners, merchants, assistants, troops, and colonists, that, owing to a jealous, watchful Spanish fleet, never set out-at least it never reached our shores. Perhaps, like Gideon's host, it was too many for the wise hand

that was overruling. The projector of this Swedish settlement was one of the grandest of mortals, a Protestant Christian, a statesman and soldier, and the largest benefactor of humanity in all his royal line-Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, the "Lion of the North," the early leader of the Protestant governments against the assailing Roman Catholic powers in the terrible thirty years' war. His grand presence and noble countenance gave the outward showing of the invincible courage and warlike genius that inspired his soldiers with ardor, whilst his mental accomplishments and eloquent speech did no dishonor to his distinguished appear, ance. The battle of Lutzen, in 1632, where, says Bancroft, "humanity won a most glorious victory and lost one of her ablest defenders," removed him from the scene of action before the plan of settlement was carried into effect. But one just as notable and worthy was left to fulfill the king's wishes and add the lustre of his name to the enterprise that blessed our shores this was Count Axtel Oxenstein, whom Bancroft calls "that wise statesman, that serene chancellor," the administrator of the kingdom under Christina, the little queen of Sweden, who directed the movements and found the supplies for the war that in 1648, by the peace of Westphalia, set Protestant liberties on an immovable basis. Yet amidst all those tumults and toils, assisted by William Usselinx, he made ready the expedition that, under charge of Peter Minuet, reached the Delaware in 1638.

It was not in search of golden sands, nuggets, and mines that these colonists were sent from Sweden; nor did fabled diamond fields attract them. Through some wonderful channels of information, the Delaware shores were pictured in most glowing colors of beauty and fertility; and it was thought that such a region would prove favorable to Sweden's trade and tend to extend her dominions. But the prevailing motive with the king was a desire to give a refuge to persecuted people, to open an asylum for wives and daughters against the effects of war and bigotry, and provide homes for the common people. It was also contemplated to carry gospel blessings to the Indians and enlarge the area of civilization and religion, and on no consideration was a single slave to be imported.

Where the Swedes first fell in with the Indians is not certified; but they met, and a legal purchase of the territory was effected, which the colonists expected to occupy. A part of the tract covered the soil previously bought by the Dutch, which was of course well known to Governor Minuet, but extended much farther up the Delaware side of the river, reaching from Cape Henlopen as far north as the Schuylkill, afterward carried to Trenton Falls, then called Santican; and the posts set at the two extremities, Acrelius tells us, might be seen sixty years later. Whilst