The Santa Fe weekly gazette. [volume], November 13, 1852, Image 1

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VOLUME II.
SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO, NOVEMBER 13, 1852.
NUMBER 21.
Santa Jt lUeckli) $cr,cttc.
' TERMS, " '
WEEKLY $5 a year, payable invariably in
advance! single copies 12 1-2 cents. Advertise
ments, $1 50 per square of ten lines for Die first
insertion, and $1 for every subsequent insertion.
THE FORGOTTEN TROTH-PLIGHT.
It was the secret hour of twilight, and tho dews
of evening were falling on the odorous roses that
blossomed over the portico of a lovely cottage,
bosomed in a pleasant valley, near to the great
city. The jasmine, the clematis, and the barbed
briony, combined to shed beauty and sweet breaths,
while the wild wind played with a low murmur
under tho trees, and carried a soft and gentle in
fluence to the heart, disposing it to tenderness,
and to appreciate and fcclall that waB lovely and
beautiful in nature, and in humanity. It was an
evening in which the stars sung holily in the heav
enly skies above.
Beneath this portico, with eyes at times turned
upon each other's faces in ri'pture, and anon wan
dering with an untold delight down tho fair walks,
and over tho lawns and flower-beds of the garden,
there stood two young people, a youth and a mai
den, thcil hearts filled with lovo and a icilse of
beauty. To the left a dense grove pictured to tho
mind an imaginative charm, as the song of the
nightingale came at intervals upon the car. To
the right lay a stretching lake, and beyond that
again were a row of 'tall and nodding poplars.
,Tlrick masses of foliage hounded the extreme end,
and behind the houses rose tho swelling heigty of
Hampshire.
The two, youK, ardent, and full of an unspcak
ing love fur eacfiLlhor, felt at that silent and de
licious hour, thatraoliire of tho soul which can
only be known by those who hive experienced the
first great delirium of that confession, in whoso
mutual worship of eich other the tremulous ago
nies and delights of the soul are so deeply felt.
"Emineliiie," he whispered, after a pause, "this
sweet scene, with ils calm and reposo, is an apt
image of that peace which we now feel after the
confession has been mado and reciprocated. It is
sweet to know now, that no doubts hang over us
to cloud our future, our parents smile upon the
prospects of our union. Tell me? then, aweet
girl, have you any after-thought upon your mind?
have yon any temple upon your hearty" and he
bent down his noble, handsome face to her own(
and looked upon her with tho deepest affection.
She lifted up her own sweet face to his, and in
it was a smile struggling with a shade of mejan
choly,' which latter she seemed tu be desiroui of
inning.
"No," she replied, yet in a hesilaling tonej "no
Iloraco, none that is I would feel none, for my
heart tell me that yon lovo me, and yet tranquil
as this scene is now at this moment, it scorns that
some cloud lowers below yonder cloudless horiion"
that may lift up ominously and overshadow ns
both." "
"Emmeline I he reproachfully, and in a low
voice said, "do you then doubt me? Have you
then really fear?"
"I am childish, Horace," replied Emmeline,
"and I cannot account for my impression. I
ought not to doubt or fear, and I do not believe 1
do. Perhaps it is from the excess of my joy for
but just now I know not what could bo more
blissful than my sensation. Perhaps dear Horace,"
she tenderly, and with charming ardor added, "it
. arises from a vague fear of your absence."
"My absence-, Emmeline!" he ejaculated with
a smile "whatrcan you have to dream from llut,
since this, happiness is connected with your own
happiness? It is on business of our marriage that
lam bound for London. "
"London!" she said with a shudder; "yes, that
is the form that my fear, takes. That Is my sha
llow which stands across mv path. It is a dim
misgiving from 'tint visit to London we shall see
the dark sorrow that , but pardon me, I
throw a sadness upon you which you ought not to
feel; I am grateful to you, Horace I she contin
ued with enthusiasm "I lovo you, and believe
you." ,
"Thanks, sweet Emmeline," replied Horace,
" passing his arm around her, anil imprinting a kiss
upon her brow. "Believe me implicitly, for I am
vowed to yon, and I put this ring upon your hand
as a pledge of our troth-plight)" and as he placed
it on her finger he lifted her hand to his lips, and
then drawing her towards him, they descended a
step from the porch, and walked slowly on towards
the garden path. "
, Horace Langford was tho son of t wealthy
gentleman, who had lived in that neighbourhood
on lis own property, as his forefathers (who had
risen up from a humble trading establishment in
the city to a position of wealth and eminence) hd
for generations before him. Horace was an only
son, and from his talents, education, and prospec
tive wealth, was likely to be one of the most suc
cessful young men of his day. With such a peer
less creature as Emmeline, hi; equal in station
and riches, bles with grace, beauty and accom
plishments, he seemed to be one likely to enjoy a
greater share of human happiness than generally
falls to the lot of men. ' , .
We have, therefore, laid before tho reader the
relative position of the young people at the time
our story opens, and we have yet to see whether
the vague fears 'of Emmeline were justified, or
whether her doubts were an Illusion. Horace
possessed every quality thatjwuld be desired, ave
that he was plastic and impulsive, and his moral
courage was not always proof against the entreaties
or jests of his friends j 'ni he had more than once
to regret that his resolutions were so weak as to be
only excuses for doing that which he had promlsod
himself not to do, as if he was only an example of
that miserable imbecility sensible men will reduce
themselves to, in order to show that the rule is ac
tually the exception, while at the same time this
erratic exception is an undeniable rule, and that
man is a contrariety. ;
The troth was plighted solemnly the vows were
breathed as solcmly ) yet, had Emmeline looked
into her lover's face at that instant, the pale moon
would hnve shown on his brow the reflection of
that shadow which he had observed upen Emme-
line's. Whether it was a remembrance that came
from the past whether it was an untold dread of
the realities of the future, we do not pretend to
know, but ere she had turned up her loving face
to his own, in all the gracious confidence of a
heart that believed in spite of fate, she saw not the
shadow on his forehead, but a face manly and
handsome, beaming with rapture upon her. .
They returned to the house. The night had
come on. The night wind swept among the
flowers, and shook the odors out of their fairy
bells. Moon and stars were up, and the night was
like to that we ecu imagine to have been the' first
in Paradise. Over their wine sat the two paternal
magnates within tho elegant parlor. Side by side
sat the twin disposers of the young destinies the
potential mammas, The converse was presided
over by Pint us j for gold, and broad acres, and
brocaded silks, and biims of old Port, snd horses,
chariot.', wedding garments, presentí, to., eon-li-tuted
the staple of the conversation.
For a time, too, the young lovers sat together,
"half embraced and half retiring from the glow
ing arm." Then a whisper from Horace made the
girl go to her piano, and her voice rose up in a
sweet hymn to the evening, as if St. Cecilia herself
was in one of her rapl4cvotuial moments pour
ing fourth a music of f&ulation, mingled with
supplication, to the divinity, who had given hei-
senses and a soul to comprehend the great loveli
ness of existence.
The morning of Horace's departure came and
went, and he with it, after leave-taking, fresh
vowe, and blessings on both sides. Still at the
parting the shadow was on the soul of Emmeline j
but on the frank and open brow of Horace there
sat no care. With embraces, and kisses, and reve
rend promises of never-dying love, he parted from
her, and befure many doys .were over ho y,us in
the capital. Before many days he had held revel
with his old companions. This vvJa wrong as the
most indillcrcnt man would say.
Unhappily, the evil genius of Horace came to
him in the shape of a beautiful and profligate ac
tress, whom he had met with during a sojourn in
London some two years previously, Withouttheir
being Anything absululcly criminal about their ac
quaintance at the time, he had plunged into debt
and extravagance for her, which had greatly em
barrassed him, though since he had relieved him
self from all his liabilities:
What would you have ? Young, frank, generous,
and inexperienced in the wiles of artful women, it
flattered his vanity to be caressed by one so beau
tiful, so brilliant, witty; and gay as she was. Feted
by tilled men, and with her levees attended by í
string of youthful coxcombs, it made him giddy
when he thought this brilliant creature showed him
more of favor and patronage than she did others.
The time, however, came when he was disabused
of his frantic adoration. An oxposure took place,
in which she was shown to be (he profligate she
was. That which added to her notoriety, and
madcher more fascinating to the "man about town,"
disgusted him, and he retired, with wounded heart
and sorrowful feelings to the country. There he
renewed his acquaintance of childhood with Em
meline, and learnt to lovo her. The result we
have shown the reader.
By a chance, on this last visit to London, by a
chance or by a design, no matter which, this art
ful and perfidious creature, knowing that ho was
wealthy and susceptible, having lost some part of
her influence, determined to mould him to her pur
pose. They met. They grew acquainted. The
story of the past she contrived to gloss over she
made it appear that she was a slandered and in
jured creature. His chivalry, his vanity, his pas
sions were roused, and ere many days had passed
he was her devoted slave and she played with
the feelings of the vacillating youth till his heart
was tortured with feelings of rage ind remorse.
He spent large sums of money upon her, while she
in secret laughed at him as an infatuated fool) with
whom she could do anything. She had marked
him for her own her prey, She did not know as
yet that there was such a person as Emmeline
She had long ceased to believe in the influence of
a virtuous and lovely young woman. On the stage
she enraptured all hcárt, by the uttoraoce of those
splendid truths, to the proof of which she was a
living lie.
At first he wrote to Emmeline daily, letters,
teeming with affection. Then these grew less
frequent. When he found at one time that a week
had passed by without having replied to her last,
a pang of pain shot through his bosom, and somo
days passed by before he knew how to write, and
its tone was so strange and incoherent, that a dis
may seiied Emmeline's heart. Her fears were
not so groundless after all.
His stajr was to have been prolonged -taaoirie
four or six weeks only, and soon two months were
gone. This was te.rible, but he was in the toiltfl.
This giddy vortex of pleasure, dissipation, and
riot, fastened upon him, and this terrible Lsmiai,
this woman who might be likened to a beautiful
fiend, half woman and half serpent, seemed to have
wound her deadly coils round him, and to have cast
such spells upon him, that he at last forgot no,
he did not forget the sweet, meek face of his love,
the pleasant, venerable and affectionate smiles of
hi) parents, but he refused to remember them. At
the gaming-table, which he bow frequenfed, at the
orgie in the theatre, leaning on the bosom of the
Delilah that thus enslayed him, these dim faces
would come like those of phantoms, phantoms of
creatures that he had s!auc;ht'Tcd, and that had left
him a murderer then wouh'. he seize his glass,
drink off the fiery wine, grow for a time frenzied
till a fresh group bf folly ani vice closed round
him, and on went the bachanal, the prodigal, thro'
the phases of his career, like a madman welcoming
the spirits that tortured him.
Like a pale and fading lily, so grew Emmeline
now. fine seemed to nave beam her knell, to have
known her fate, and to have resigned herself to its
inexorablo decrees. Sil c excused him, and she
pardoned him, but no hope, no Imaginative faculty
could make her believe that sh.i was loved no more
by one who had now for so long a time forgotten
her by one who had forgotten the, troth-plight,
I lie day of the marriage, bis hone, friends and all. I
At last no letters eome, and a ;ulf-of time add ob
livion began to meet itself gradually between him
and them. Nearer to the brinV of the everlasting
pit, able to glauco down its hoiHble tides, and to
it fathomless depths of horror and despair, the
victim appeared to have been led. There is but
one way to save such a man, Mid that tho rudest
of all. To maun, to wound t iflog anything is
the only method of arousing Inn out of this fright
ful sleep.
At last, full of anxietj end dread, his father
sought him and found him in 'je company of the
dialling harpy and then for t' first time did the
temptress now turned into a tigress know that
there was a guardian angel, ai. Emmeline living,
one 'perhaps that might step in between her and
her present idol the young, the rich, the hand
some, the plastic liberal fool, that showered gold
at hor feet, clad her in silks, and loved her as if
liukaxre a maniac, and this love his ruling passion.
L I" lamer and the son were lelt
"faloiie tlgelher. . ,
How changed had Horace grown. The grace of
his early innocence hud lied. The kind nature had
become fierce and impulsive. The gray hairs of
his father inspired him with fear and dread, instead
of reverence or love, The old man said,
"Emmeline is dying, Horace, will you not seo
her before she passes away? The heart of your
mother is breaking, my son ; wiU'you not go and
close her eyes?"'" Those words woke up his feel
ings. In one stormy burst of anguish and tears
the fetters of vice were broken ssundcr, He knelt
in abasement and tears. If I'mmrline should die,
what would he be what would he think of him
self I
He received a letter from the actress the next
day. It was hitter, mocking, aid scornful. It
laughed at him it insulted him. It called him
child and fool. And the bsilliant baseness had
tobbedim of jewels, money everything that her
rapacious hands could touch. She knew that
Horace had a high sense of honor. She knew that
such a thing existed, by rumor, herself j poor
wretrh, the perfume of her innocence, the remem
brance of her days of honor, was so blighted the
former, the latter so distant, that she scarcely be
lieved sho had ever been pure and she said, "I
can keep all I have taken, with impunity, for he
will not prosccuto me, I need dread no police,
but I will make myself secure, notwithstanding."
But she had reckoned wongly.
Horace was robbed, and would have borne It.
She insulted him, and it roused his anger. Before
two days she was in a prison beating hemp. The
gay beauty was defiled with disgrace. She had
already become poluted by vice, Horaco con
trasted the two women together, FelicM, the ac
tress, and Emmeline. 0, God, how his heart
ached under the insult he had offered the dove that
had sought for shelter in his heart. His father
wisely left him to remorse and tears. He thought
it would be better to leave him to himself.
"Will you return, Horace?" he asked him a
a few days after.
"Wherefore, my father?" demanded Horace,
loomily.
"Have you rorgouen your iroiii-piignu- was
the question that followed, and it jarred upon the
heart of the young man who had been so rudely
treated by his own passions, as if a moral elec
tricity had gone through his being.
"She says, Horace, that when the snows of the
winter fall they will shroud her. Before the next
spring comos the grass will grow on her grave.
Will you, not look into her forgiving eyes before
they close to you for ever ?"
The balance trembled", but the last word decided
him. They were pregnant with a solemn meaning,
and as solemnly did he comprehend it.
"I will," he said) and went.
Day after day, and night afterlight, he sat by
Emmeline's side. The snows fell, and she lived
oni The spring came, and she gathered strength,
while the roses once more came to her checks.
With the strong, glowing summor, she was strong,
too; and then the silent, blissful hope came to his
heart that his mother and Emmeline might yet be
spared to him. .
With the repentance of Horace, who had suf
fered much, and expiated bis sins with agony, bit
ter fit salt tears and a bruised soul could wring
frocMiim, came health of body and peace of mind
to Emmeline ) and the day on which she rested
her head on the bosom of her husband, she said,
"I am happy now, my own Horace. The shadow
that came is gone. Blessed be God that sends the
calm sunshine and tin sweet rain after storm and
tempest. We will never part more."
"Never," said Horace, "till the grave parti us,
my own tweet wife and may the time be long
ere that hour comes."
'Tis strange," said a young man, as he staggered
home from a party, "how evil communications
corrupt good manners. : I've been surrounded by
tumblers all the evening, and now I'm a tumbler
myself." ,
Log-Rolling and its Cost.
The manner of doing husines by Con
gress, calls for the condemnation of the
country. By putting of all the bills to
the close of the session, so much work
has got to bo done in so smell a quan
tity of time, that not one man out of a
dozen can tell what lie is voting for.
During the lust three days of the session
just closed, upwaids of $10,000,000
were voted to this, that, and the other
object, but what these objects were, not
a score of members will know till they
see the laws published in the Washing
ton papers. To show the effect of this
sort of legislation we would mention
that a grant of iffjO,000 crept into one
jf the appropriation bills without any
man, in either house,' being aware how
it got theic.The present arrangement
forces men to go things so blind, that it
would not surprise us lit the least to find
in tome bill for tho relief of the Bull
Head Indians, a section giving the fee
simple of the Capital to some Jeremy
Didler about Washington.
,Another objection to the present mode
of doing business, is the quantity of log
rolling connected with it. Bills no longer
depend on their intrinsic merits for suc
cess, but on tho merits of (lie bill to
which they aie attached as riders. If
Mr. Gag wants an appropriation for the
purpose of constructing a canalbetween
Duck Creek and Mud Hole Inlet, lie
don't bring in a bill for that purpose,
but he hunts up a law that should and
will pass and fastens the Duck Creek
Canal to it as an amendment by this
means a thousand outrages at o commit
ted on the Treasury, and a thousand
bad laws are annnally forced into being.
To show the tendency of this sort of
legislation, we would point to the civil
and diplomatic bill a bill that has been
so loaded with amendments that you
can't tell whether it is a law to defray
the expenses of the government, or a
statute to encourage saw filing. Wilk
in a week after it was brought -into the
Senate, it had over a hundred different
and distinct laws attached to it in the
way of postscripts, and so dovetailed to
gether that a man could not vote against
an hundred thousand dollar appropria
tion for the advancement of a lobster
market, without endangering a bill on
which tho Vitality of the whole govern
ment dependeJ. The Harbor Bill, as
originally reported, contained appro
priations which only amounted to One
and a half millions of dollars. Before it
becamo a law, it contained appropria
tions which amounted to over five mill
ions of dollars. The bill as, originally
reported, contained a few appropria
tions for a few national purposes. The
bill as it passsed, contained, as we said
before, over $5,000,000 of appropria
tions; three millions of which are devo
ted to matters of no more corisequcco to
the nation than would a ship canal be
between Sand Lake and Troy. The
Navy Bill as passed by former Congres-
ses,"contained matters which related to
the Nnvy and the Navy only The Navy
bill of this session is devoted to all pos
sible subjects beginning with firigates
and leaving off with the bounty on mack
erel and fishing smacks. To this bill
the Senate in one day,tsckcd on amend
ments which filled sixteen pages of
closely written foolscap the cost of
which amendments will amount to over
,$5,000,000. We say they may amount
to $5,000,000, but there is not a Sena
tor who voted for them can say, with
any certainty, that they will not amount
to dquble this sum. eTIie way they rush
ed things on Monday, renders it mor
ally impossible for any one to say what
ho did or what he did not do. As we
said, the whole system is wrong, and
well calculated to foster improvidence
and corruption. The ooly cure for it is
the veto of the President. Let the Ex
ecutive withhold his approval to such
monstrous bills for a single session, and
they would die a natural death. 'A small
dose of Andrew Jackson would do Con
gress more good, just now, than anything
it lias taken in twenty yean. In these
remarks we are attacking neither Whigs
nor Democrats. Our strictures apply
to the system and the system only. We
care not which party is in power, so
long as affairs are hurried through as
they now arc, there must be confusion
and wastí. N. T. Dutchman.
Soliloquy of Eev. Mr. Parish.
"I've really an intolerable pain in my
chest, silting here in my study so long.
I should like to work a little in my gar
den, but Deacon Smith thinks 'it looks
secular.' Brother Clapp has offered me
his horse and chaise, but Deacon Smith
says people will talk if I ride about.
Well, I'll take a walk with my wife, (I
suppose I can do that.) Here's a hole
in 'my coat; (it's all toles,) I wonder
where that new one is that wife's father
sent me? Oh, I recollect, Deacon
Smith says it will cause hcart-buffiinc
in the church if I wear so Jnc a broad
cloth. Well, I'll go in my old one.
No I can't, either, Deacon Smith says
it's a reflection on the parish Tor me to
go out in an old coat. I wish my people
would pay me the last two quaiter's
salary. Think I'll write, and tell them
how closely I'm cornered. No, it won't
do ; Deacon Smith says that if there's
anything that deserves a rebuke, it's a
minister who thinks about money. I
wonder how long I had better make my
sermon next Sabbath? Bro. Jones says
half an hour )ro. Clapp three quar
ters, and Deacon Smith says they don't
get their money's worth if 'tii ihurt of
an hour long. Brother Jones is a tem
perance man Bro. Clapp isn't. Broi
Harris is an abolitionist Deacon Smith
he's anti-fuss I and wants the.
world to go on the old fashioned way 1
"Wife has just been in, and wants to
know 'if John may go a-fishing,' but
Deacon Smith says ministers hoys never
ought to bo born with the bump of de
struction. Little Susy wants a doll, but
Deacon Smith says it's too much like -
worshiping 'wooden idols, forbid in the
scripters." My wife is worn out, and
needs a servant, but Deacon Smith says
ministers wives should never be weary
in well-doing. Wifo's sister made me
a present of a bock mark for the pulpit
Bible, in the form of a cross. Deacon
Smith saysit's'a rag of Popery! '(mem.
To have it removed before next Sunday.)
I should like to exchange with Brother
Putnam; but Deacon Smith says he has
never made it quite clear to his mindj
whether little dead babies are admitted
to heaven at nine months and two dayt
or two months and nine days! Broi
Hill, too, is a very good man, but Dea
con Smith says he ought never to havJ
entered the ministry, if he couldnH get
the curl out of his hair! Really, I'm
quite puzzled to find out the path of
duty." ' Fanki Fian.
-N'.Y. Dutchman
lATKtt FROM CaLIFOKNU. Neti
leans, Sept- 4. The steamer Dan
Webster, from San Juan, arrived hel
this morning. She brings San Frart
cisco dates to the 14th August.
Business generally was steady, arc
the mines were yielding abundantly.
A duel had taken place at Sacramen
to city, between Mr. E. Gilbert, lata i
member of Congress, and genearl Deh
vers, They-fought with pistols. Mr
Gilbert was killed. The origin of thl
difficulty arose out of political differen
ces. , '
' Typographical Mistake A printer
in New York, intending to strike off a
tot of posters announcing a largo Tt4
Sale in that city, piinted them with
"Sea Tale" for a head, h- ! filled
the auction-room with regular 4 salts,
ready to hear the particulars.