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L A'ND REPUBLECAN ENION. * o i
By WILLIAM P. HILL.
» THE GAZETTE & UNION,
Is published weekly. on Tuesday mornings, at $1,25 per
annum when the subscription price is paid strictly in
advance ;or $1,50 if paid within the year. If a year
from the time of subscribing is suffered to expire, the
proprietor will reserve to himself the right to charge
at the rate of $2,00 per annum, with interest after, in
Payment for expense of collecting, either through legal
measures or by sending outan agent.
o==Subscribers in Portsmouth who receive their pa
‘pers from carriers, will be charged $1,50 in advance ; or
#1,75 if paid within the year, or $2,00 after expiration
of the year.
G~ ADVERTISEMENTS inserted three wecks, at the
xate of $1,25 per square of twelve lines, brevier type.
Twenty cents per square will be charged for each ad
slitional insertion. For short advertisements of less
Rwelve and over five lines $1,08%; five lines or less 75
xents. A liberal discount from the above terms will be
Mmade, to yearly advertisers or others where the amount
©f advertising exceeds sl2.
0> All communications must be addressed to the
Ppublisher, at Portsmouth, and the postage, in all cases
Pre-paid.
: [i;d‘?No paper discontinued wuntil all arrcarages are
. IZ*Jon Worxk done with neatness and despatch at
®his office.
OG=OrrICE, No. 3 Plcasant Street, nearly opposite
Jefferson-Hall Market.
oy WBARE & CO.
Portsmouth Iron Foundry,
MECHANIC STREET—MANUFACTURERS OF
Oven and Boiler Doors, -| Air Tight Stove Work,
Friction Rollers & Cranks, ; Plough Points,
Caldron Kettles, 1 Caltivator Teeth.
Funnel Stoppers, ’ Door Rellers and Rods, for
Fire Frames, large and small doors.
CYLINDER STOVES.
Stove and Machinery castings of all kinds made to
sorder. All orders promptly attended to.
PHINEHAS DRAKE,
THOMAS DRAKE,
Sept. 28. GEORGE B. COVELL.
SAMUEL BAKER,
SURGEON DENTIST, .
No. 32 MARKET STREET.
[Over Hill & Carr’s Store.]
JOHN S. WELLS,
Attorney and Connsellor at Law,
EXETER, N. H.
J. E. STANYAN,
1 o
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
KINGSTON, N. H.
BOOT & SHOE STORE.
Sign of the Large Boot, No. 19 Market Strect.
l]-\I'IE subseriber” would inform the public that he
still continues at the Old Stand. where he will be
at all times ready to furnish BOOTS & SHOES made
from the best of Stock, and in a workmanlike manner.
He has on hand and will manufacture to order, Wa
ter Proof and common Thick BOOTS, Calf and Thick
do., Ladies Kid and Calf SHOES, Boys and Youth’s
BOOTS & SHOES, Misses and Childrens SHOES &
‘BOOTEES, together with a complete assortment of
RUBBERS of all descriptons. All who are desirofis
of receiving their money’s worth are respectfully invi
ted to call. JOHN STAVERS.
‘Sept. 28. = 3w
FALL AND WINTER GOODS. ‘
D. L. STOVER, No. 9, Congress Strect |
HAS on hand and for sale eheap for cash, Ready l
Made Clothing consisting of the following articles:
Dress and Frock Coats ; Over Coats; Tweed Comsi
and Sattinett Coats ; Broadeloth, Cassimere. Sattinct
Doeskin and Fancy Pants. Green Jackets, Gurnsey !
Frocks, Overalls; Velvet, Satin, Cloth, Cashmere & |
Valentia VESTS. Shirts, Draws, Bosoms, Collars,
Stocks, Hdks, Suspenders, Scarfs, Umbrellas, Gloves,
&e. &e. 1
Also constantly on hand a good assortment of Broad
Cloths, Cassimeres, Doeskins, Sattinets, Tweeds, Vest
ings of all kinds and Beavers which will be made to
order at the shortest notice and at the smallest prices
Sept. 14
CONGRESS BOOTS & SHOES.
HAVING purchased the Patent Right to manufac
ture and sell the CONGRESS BOOTS &
.SHOES, for Gentlemen, Ladies and Children’s wear,
I am prepared to manufacture all the different patterns
in the latest style, and warrant to give satisfaction.
J. C. CARR,
Aug. 24. 14 1-2 Market St
NEW WHEAT FLOUR.
ABOUT 100 bbls. Fresh FLOUR from new wheat,
for sale on board Schr. ELIZA at H .H. Ladd’s
Sept 7. Whart, by J. P. BARTLETT.
PATENT ELASTIC TIES
FOR Ladies and Misses, for sale at J. WEBSTER’S
No. 6 Daniel street---the only place in Portsmouth
‘where the real patent article can be obtained.
Sept. 7.
BABY JUMPERS.
ANOTHER lot just received and for sale at the reg
uiar prices, by JOHN WEBSTER.
Sept. 7. No. 6 Daniel st.
~ STEWART'S REFINED SUGARS.
1 5 BBLS. Crushed Sugar; 5 bbls. Powdered do.;
3 do. Yellow do.; 10 boxes D. R. Loaf do-; for
.sale by WM SIMES & CO.
Sept. 7.
WORSTEDS.
ALL colors of KNITTING WORSTEDS can be ob
-AX tained cheap at JOHN WEBSTER’S,
Sept 21 No. 6, Daniel street
~ _ DORCAS SPOOL COTTON.
A NEW and superior article of Spool Cotton just re
b ceived and for saleby = WM. J. LAIGHTON.
Sept 21 - 3is -
RAW FLANNELS.
JOHN WEBSTER, No. 6, Daniel Street.
,¢ Has on hand a vgood assortment of home-made
“Wool and Cotton-& Wool FLANNEL; also, Woolen
~YARN, a goon article—for sale low Sept 21
- BLACK SILK SHAWLS. |
A NEW assortment of Black Silk Shawls just recei-
X ved and for sale by WM. J. LAIGHTON.
Sept 21..
‘BED-TICKINGS.—Jnst received and for sale supe
rior styles, from 9 to 20¢ per yard, by
" Sept. 14. J. WEBSTER.
FRINGES AND GIMPS,
BLACK and Colored Silk Fringes and Gimps, just
s received by T. TREDICK. Sept. 14.
. BATTING & WADDING.—Cotton Batting for
: 6 1-4, 7 and 8c per Ib. for sale by :
" Sept. 14. J. WEBSTER, 6 I_)g_r{i_ekfi._
. 'WOOL BLANKETS.—Every sgle and quality,for
: sale very low by J. WEBSTER. Sept. 14.
RAHAM FLOUR 'R and Dyspepsia Crackers, can
i.G be had at the Store of S 3. DODGE,
Bept. 14 A 5 U No. 44 Market St.
: 'VIHEGAR.——IOOO gallons l'%“ Cider Vinggar, for.
‘¥ sale by _ LEONARD COTTON,
Aug. 24. : : 17 Pleasant St
STUABT’S Extra Molasses__for sale by
- Septad. ’ WM. SIMES & CO.
BAGS Liverpool Fine SALT, for sale .
A 0 9 m "l' ' WM'.SIMES‘Z CO.
XJINEGAR.---10 bbls. Cider Vinegar, for sale
Y Bept. 7. by e WM. SIMES & CO.
FP\AMARINDS, just received and for sale by =
A Septas ' DODGE & Co. 44 Marketst
POETRY.
e A e
From the N. Y. Express.
BABY JUMPERS.
BY FRANCES §. OSGOOD. :
They tell of a ring that is ever enchanted,
By dight tripping fairies, in summer nights haunted ;
And they say that whoever shall step but within it
Has only to wish for some treasure, to win it !
A fable no longer ? behold in its glory -
The dear fairy thing that they talk of i story,
With its magical music. its toys and its treasures,
A gay charmed circle of exquisite pleasures.
And here sits a fay, with her blue eyes up-glancing,
Her tiny hands spread and her little feet dancing;
Whi;:a her soft, rippling coo, like a ring-dove’s is
card, 4
To tell her sweet rapture ! tlie beauty ! the bird !
A health, oh inventorof blest Baby Jumper—
A health in the richest and rarest of bumpers !
'.‘l‘yh; sag]ei afigflfl; secr are f:ll;;ste"iéuf alyearl*f I
"hen all shall be peace in this sad little sp
Wbe;\ the poor shall rejoice amd the bondméi go
ree,
But the MmoTHER shall owe her millenium to thee.
Away with all jolting and tossing forever;
The croon and the luliby-murmur then never!
Only leave the babe-quecn in the circle enchanted,
Each wish of her dear little heait shall be granted !
Let her mount her gay throne and away in the air
She rises o'er sorrow and dances off care ;
Descending, her tiny foot but touches the floor,
And up through the ring she is floating once more.
Her happy laugh echoes, the silver bells ringing,
See scems a young spirit through the air her way
winging :
And her soft rippling coo, like the ring-dove’s, is
heard ?
To tell her sweet rapture—the beauty ! the bird!
THOU ART GONE.
BY REV. JAMES GILBORNE LYONS, M. D.
Thou art gone to the shores of the seraph’s land,
"T'o the sacred place of the rightcous band ;—
Thou hast fled-afar, like some forest bird,
When the leaves of her dwelling are rudely stiir’d ;
The lyre hast dnst on its rnin’d string*
Thy bride is sad in her flowery spring,
Thy foot—unseen on the temple floor;
Thy voice—unheard at the poor man’s door.
Young soldier of Truth! thou didst raise thy shield
With its blood-red cross on a stormy field ;
Thou didst look unmov’d on the banner’d throng.
‘When the friend was cold. and the foe was strong ;
In the front of the battle we saw thee stand,
With a fearless heart, and a forward hand ;
We did hope that the glories of coming years,
Would cluster about thee :—we thought not of tears.
But go :---it was better to die thus young,
‘When thy praise was loud upon every tongue ;
It was happier far than to linger on, :
Till the bloom and freshness of life were gone.
Since the seal was set on thy noble brow,
Thou hast kept thy promise and paid thy vow;
And when suns and systems shall fade and fall.
These works of thine shall outlive them all.
AN ANGEL IN THE HOUSE.
BY LEIGH HUNT.
How sweet it were, if. without feeble fright,
Of dying of the dreadful beauteous sight.
An angel came to us, and 'we could bear
To see himrissue from the silent air
At evening, in our room, and bend on ours '
His divine eyes, and bring us from his bowers l
News of dear friends, and the children who have
never |
Been dead indeed—as we shall know for ever. ‘
Alas! we think not that we daily see |
About our hearths—angels, that are to be,
Or may be if they will, and we prepare
Their souls and ours to meet in happy air—
A child, a friend, a wife whose soft heart sings
In unison with ours, breeding its future wings.
B YR T T T e R 7SS e IS I
WOMAN.
Sweet tender sex ! with snares encompassed round
On others hang thy comforts and thy rest.— Hogg.
Nature has made woman weak, that she might
receive with gratitude the protection of man. Yet
how often is the appointment perverted! How of
ten does her protector become her oppressor!—
Even custom seems leagued against her ; born with
the tenderest feelings, her whole life is commonly
a struggle to suppress them. Placed in the most
favorable circumstances, her choice is confined to a
few objects ; and unless where singularly fortunate,
her fondest partialities are only a modification of
giatitude. She may reject, but cannot invite;
may tell what would make her wretched, but dare
not even whisper what wounld make her happy ;
and in a word, exercises merely a negative upon
the most important events of her life. How cruel,
then, to increase the misery of their natural depen
dence! How -ungenerous to add treachery to
strength, and to deceive or disappoint those whose
highest ambition is your favor, and whose only
safety is our honesty.
“By GArR! I am Farn Dowx !"—The Park
is a favorite resort for all classes of our population ;
and on Saturday evening, a French gentfiaman, to
make himself very comfortable, took a seat upon
the chain-railing around one of the squares. In
consequence of others indulging in the same luxu
ry, the chain where the Frenchman seated himself,
was quite tightly» extended. After sitting there a
few minutes, we noticed him turn something re
sembling an unfinished back somerset, and come
down upon the grass bed, like—like—it makes no
difference what, he was down, and all in a bunch,
and that’s sufficient.
“By gar,” he exclaimed, “de shain is electrefy
me, and hurt me ver much, and I am trow upon
the grass—Parblean, de shain is broke, and by gar,
lam fall down ! No, not broke! Den somebody
rlay treek pon me—l shall report dem to de Po
ice, and get satisfaction. But, n'importe.”
He %Ot up, brushed his hat and clothes, felt the
chain, looked around, and walked very leisurly to
Broadway, muttering something not very compli
mentary to any person, place, or thing—N. York
Globe.
CoLp Beprooms.—A person accustorred to un
dress in a room without a fire, and to seek repose
in a cold bed, will not experience the least incon
venience, even in the severest weather. The nat
ural heat on his body will very speedily render
him even more comfortably warm than the individ
ual who sleeps in a heated apartment, and in a bed
thus artificia“y warmed, and who will be extremely
liable to a sensation of chillness as soon as the arti
ficial heat is dissipated., But this is not all—the
constitution of the former will be rendered more
robust, and far less susceptible, to the influence of
atmospherical vicissitudes than that of the latter.—
Journal of Health.
Time.—Every year steals away something from
us. In one we I}:Jse a relation, in the next a friend ,
health grows more precarious, and Pleasure less
alluring, till by degrees the whole little mas ofhap
piness we hady been gatberinfi, drops from us in
sensibly, and that grave, which we once looked on
with so much horror, become at last our refuge and
shelter.— Selected.
Integrity is the foundation of all t)yt_t is high in
character among mankind ; other qualities may add
toits splendor, but if this essential requisite be
wanting, all their lustre fades.
Sensibility is like the stars; they can lead only
‘when the sky is clear. Reason is the magnetic
needle wluc{guuks the ship when the stars are
wrapt in darkness. o i ‘
PORTSMOUTH, N. H, TUESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 5, 1847,
\' THE MILLER’S MAID.
A STORY OF FEMALE HEROISM.
“ Near the hamlet of Udorf, on the banks of the
Rhine, not far from Bonn, there yet stands thel
‘:nill which was the scene of the following adven
‘ture :— |
~ “One Sunday morning, the miller and his fami
ly set out as usual to attend divine service, at the
nearest church in the vilage of Heasel, leaving the
‘mill, to which the dwelling house was attached, in
‘charge of his servant maid, Hanchen, a bold-heart
ed girl, who had been some time in his service.—
The youngest child, who was still too little to go to
church, remained also under her care. '
~ “As Hanchen was busily engaged in preparing
dinner for the family, she was interrupte&l) by a vis
it from her admirer, Heinrich Botteler ; he was an
idle, graceless fellow, and her master, who knew
his character well, had forbidden him the house;
but Hanchen coeuld not believe all the stories she
heard against her lover, and was sincerely attached
to him. On this occasion she greeted him kindly,
and not only got him something to eat at once, but
found time in the midst of her business to sit down
and have a gossip with him, while he did justice to
the fare set before him. As he was eating, he let
fall his knife, which he asked her to pick up for
him ; she playfully remonstrated, telling him she
feared, from all she heard, he did little enough
work, and ought at least to wait on himself; in the
end, however, she stooped down to pick up the
knife, when the treacherous villian drew a dagger
from under his coat, and caught her by the nape of
the neck, griping her throat firmly with his fingers
to prevent her screaming ; then, with an oath, he
desired her to tell him where her master kept his
money, threatening to kill her if she did not com
ply with his demand. The surprised and terrified
girl in vain attempted to parley with him; he still
held her tightly in his choking grasp, leaving her
no other choice but to die or betray her master.—
She saw there was no hope of softening him or
changing his purpose, and with the full conviction
of his treachery, all her native courage awoke in
her bosom. Affecting, however, to yield to what
was inevitable, she answered him in a resigned
tone, that what must be, must; only, if he carried
off her master’s gold, he must take her with him,
too; for she could never stay to hear their suspi
cions and reproaches, entreating him, at the same
time, to relax his grasp of her throat, for she could
hardly speak, much less do what he bid her, while
he held her so tight. At length he was induced to
quit his hold, on her reminding him that he must‘
lose no time, or the family would be returning
from church. She then led the way to her master’s
bed-room. and showed him the coffer where he kept
his money. ‘Here,” she said, reaching to him an
axe which lay in a corner of the room, ‘you can
open it with this, while I run up stairs to put all
my things together, besides the money Ihave saved
since I have been here.’
“ Completely deceived by her apparent readiness
to enter into his plans, he allowed her to leave the
room, only exhorting her to be as quick as possible,
and was immediately absorbed in his own opera
tions ; first opening the box, and then disposing of
the money abont his person. In the mealwhile,
Hanchen, instead of going up stairs to her own
room, crept softly along several passages till she
again reached her master’s chamber. It was the
work of a moment to shut and bolt the door upon
him; and this done, she rushed out to the outer
door of the mill to give the alarm. The only being
in sight was her master’s little boy, a child of five
years old; to him she called with all her might,
‘run, run to meet your father as he comes from
church ; tell hin we shall all be murdered if he
does not come back.” The frightened child did as
she bid him, and set running on the road she poin
ted out. 7
“ Somewhat relieved by seeing that the child un
derstood her, and would make her case known, she
sank down for a moment on the stone seat before
the door, and full of conflicting emotions of grief
and thankfulness for her escape, she burst into
tears. But at this moment a shrill whistle aroused
her attention ; it was from her prisoner, Heinrich,
who opening the grated window above her head,
shouted out to some accomplice withont to catchi
the child that was running away so fast, and to kill
the girl. Henchen looked around in great alarm,
but saw no one. The child still continued to run
with all his might, and she hoped that it was but a
false alarm to excite her fear and overcome her
resolution ; when just as the child reached a hol
low in the next field, (the channel of a natural
drain,) she saw a ruffian start ap from the bed of
the drain, and snatching up the child in his arms,
hastened with him towards the mill, in accordanece
with the directions of hisaccomplice. In & moment
she perceived the full extent of her danger, and
formed a plan for escaping it.
“ Retreating into the mill, she double-locked and
bolted the door, the only apparent entrance into the
building, every other means of obvious access be
ing prevented by strong iron gratings fixed up a
gainst all the windows, and then took her post at
the upper casement, determined to await patiently
her master’s return, and her consequent delivery
from that dangerous position, or her own death, if
indeed inevitable ; for she was fully resolved to en
ter into no terms, and that nothing should induce
her to give up her master’s property into the rob
‘ber’ hands. She had hm'(l)ly had time to secure
herself in her retreat, when the ruffian, holding the
screaming child in his arms, and brandishing a
knife in one hand, came up, and bid her open the
door, or he would break it down, adding many aw
ful oaths andithreats; to which her only answer
was, that she put her trust in God. Heinrich, who
from his window was witness of this colloquy, now
called out to cut the child’s throat before her eyes
if she still persisted in her refusal. Poor Hanchen’s
heart quaiYed at this horrible threat; for a moment
her resolution failed, but only for a moment. The
death of the child could be no gain to them, while
her own death was certain if she admitted the as
sailant, and her master, too, would be robbed.—
She had no reason either to suppose that her com
pliance would save the life of tge child. It was to
risk all against nothing, and she resolved to hold
out to the last, though the villain from without re
‘newed his threats, saying that if she would not o
‘pen the door to him he would kill the child, and
then set fife to the mill over her head. ‘I put
my trust in God* was still the poor girl’s ans
wer.
“In the meanwhile, the ruffian sat down the
child for a moment, to look about for combustibles
to carry out his threat. In this search, he discov
ered a mode of entering the mill unthought of bi’
Hanchen. Tt was a large aperture in the wall,
communicating with the great wheel and other ma
chinery of the mill, and it was a point entire?’ un
protected, for it had never been contemplated that
any one would seek to enter by so dangerous an
mlet. Triumphant at this discovery, he returned
to tie the hangs and feet of the poor. child, to pre
vent its escape, and then stole back to the aperture
by which he intended to effect an entrance. The
situation of the building ‘ prevented Hanchen see
ing anything of this, but a thought had meanwhile
struck her. It was Sunday when the mill was nev
er at work ';‘%;h‘etefore the wheels were set in mo
tion, the whole neighborhood would know that
something was the matter, and her M}"”Pe‘“‘l’_
Kimm&.m home, to know the meaning of any
< Being all het life ascustomed.to the machiner
“ Boing all her lfe ascustomed to the machinery
of the il it was the work of 4 moment tosebibal
in motion—a brisk breeze, which sprung 1 )At
engine whirled' round with fearful rapidity; to
great wheel slowly revolved on its axle ; the small
er gear turned and creaked and groaned, accord-
Ing as the machinery came into action; the'mill
was in full operation. It was at this moment that
the ruffian intruder had succeeded in squeezing
himself through the aperture in the wall, and get
ting himself safely lodged in the interior of the
great drum wheel. His dismay, however, was in-
Hgscr}bable, when he began to be whirled about
with its rotation, and he found that all his efforts to
\put a stop to the -powerful machinery which set it
fin motion, or to extricate himself from his perilous
situation, were fruitless. In his terror, he uttered
shrieks and horrible imprecations. Astonished at
!fthe roise, Hanchen ran’ to the spot, and saw him
i‘gcmrght like a rat, in his own trap, from which it
‘\Was no part of her plan to liberate him. She knew
that he would be more frightened than hurt, if he
‘kept within his rotary prison, without any rash at
taupt to escape, and that even if he became insen
| Ighe could not fall out. s
“In the meantime the wheel went round-and
round with its steady, unceasing motion ; and round
and round he went with it, while sense remained,
bestiging Hanchen, with entreaties, promises, and
wild impotent threats, which were all equally dis
regayded, till by degrees feeling and perception
failedhim, and he saw and heard no more. He
fell séaseless at the bottom of the engine, but even
then h‘iinanimate body continued to be whirled
round & before ; for Hanchen did not dare to trust
to appearances in such a villain, and would not
venture to suspend the working of the mill or stop
the mill gear and tackle from running at their fullest
speed.
PAt lmgth she heard a loud knocking at the
door, andficw to open it. It was her master and
his family accompanied by several of his neighbors
all in the atmost excitement and wonder, at seeing
the mill sils in full swing on Sunday, and still
more sO, vhen they found the poor child lying
bound upon the grass, who, however, was too terri
fied to give them any account of what had happen
ed. Hancien, in a few words told all ; and then
her spirit, ¥hich had sustained her through such
scenes of terror, gave way under a sense of safety
and relief, zpd she fell fainting into their arms, and
was with mith difficulty recovered. The machin
ery of the nill was at once stopped, and the inani
mate ruffizn dragged from his dreadful prison.
Heinrich, tw, was brought forth from the miller’s
chamber, and both were in a short time sent bound
under a string escort -to Boon, where they soon
after met the reward of their crimes.”
The story of this extraordinary act of presence
of mind cancludes by telling us that Hanchen, thus
effctually cured of her penchant for her unworthy
suitor, became eventually the wife of the miller’s
eldest son, and thus lived all her life in the scene
of her imminent danger and happy deliverance.
From the New York Despatch.
SKETCHES BY THE CAPTAIN.
5 A DUEL. -
.Twenty years ago I made the acquaintance of
Lieutenant ——, then a passed-midshipman in
the United States navy, now in command of a very
saucy little craft, which has not been undistinguish
ed in the recent naval movements on the coast of
Mexico. The acquaintance was made under cir
ctimstances so singular, that their relation, even at
tlhis distant day, can hardly fail to interest the rea
der. :
It was 12 Gibraltar. I was passing a coffve house
much frequented by English and American offi
cers, whei hearing my name called, I turned and
saw standing in the door a young man in the un
dress of pur service. He approached me, say
ng ;—
% Capfain ———, of the brig Monmouth, I be
lieve ?”’
¢ The same, sir,’ I replied.
¢T an Mr. ———, passed-midshipman of the U.
S. slogp of war ———, now lying at Port Mahon.
I am lere on leave, and none of my brother offi
cers ate at hand to render me that service which I
must request of you as a fellow countryman to per-
form.' ‘
¢ T shall be glad to learn how I can be of service
to Mr. ———,” I replied, with rather a formal
bow, for our young officers in the Mediterranean
were too much in the habit of getting into silly
scrapes, and I suspected for a moment that it was
one,gf this character in which I was asked to fig
g% is a little affair which will detain you only a
few minutes, Captain ———,’ the young officer
remarked, with a smile. ¢The fact 1, I have one
duel so fight, and peahaps more, within five min.
utes, ind in that coffee “house. I was going out to
hunt &ip a countryman to act as my second, when
you passed.’ 3 . :
He hastily explained the origin of the difficulty,
proved to me that he was in the right, and I re
solvéd to see him through. We entered the house,
in the publie room of which I was introduced to
seven or eight English naval officers, one of whom
held in his %lands a pair of fine duelling pistols.—
He was the second of the other party, and we step-
Q’fd aside to make the necessary preparations.—
Thile the preliminaries for the fight are being ar
ranged, the reader may as well be enlightened as
to its cause. :
The Englsh naval officers for several years af
ter the conclusion of the last war, omitted ‘no op
portunity to insult our officers and provoke them
into quarrels. When they eould not get a repre
sentative of the flag’ from the government service,
they would seek one in the merchant marine, and
captains of trading vessels were more than once
compelled to notice insults thus gratuitously offex
ed. At Gibraltar and Port Mahon there had been
several duels, and at the latter place they were of
such frequent occurrence, that it was usual to say
on saluting an acquaintance in the morning— .
¢ Well, who is the victim of ‘to-day? Was the
Englishman killed, or did the American take the
bullet ?° ' 24d ‘
In the case now referred to, six or seven English
Lieutenants had studied for the week that my
friend had been in Gibralter, how to get him into
a quarrel. . They settled on the plan at last, and
lost no time in putting it into execution.
Liett. ——— was sitting in the public room of
the coffee house, quietly drinking his wine and
reading a newspaper. One of the English officers,
who was reckoned an excellent shot, -commenced
walking up and down _the room, passing and re
{:assing the American Lieutenant, upon whose toes
e at length trod. Lient. —— looked up ; the
Englishman bowed and said—* Beg ycur pardon,
sir, an accident.’ Lieut. =——— bowed and went
on with his paper. The Englishman again passed,
again trod on the American’s toes, and again apol
ogized—¢ Beg your pardon, gir, an accident.’—
Lieut. ——— bowed and resumed his paper. The
Englishman allowed five minutes to pass, and then
for the third time committed the offence, repeating
with a mocking smile the apologetic words—" Beg
your pardon, sir, an accident.’
Lieut, ———calmly laid aside his paper, arose,
and taking the Englishman by the ears, deliberate
ly discharged a considerable quantit{ of tobacco
juice, with a respectable sized quid, full in his face,
saying, with a jeering laugh,--*J beg your pardon,
B'r—an accident.’
This settled the business, or rather put itin the
¢rain of settlement. The En%}ishman challenged
the American on the oo‘Pot : the latter accepted,
claiming all the :éghav the challenged party—
choice of weez:{:on , time, and place. “This was of
course conceded, and Lieut. —— named pistols
the weapons—that room the place—and the time,
the moment he could find a countryman to act as
his second. On this errand, hie encounteied me at
the door, and returned after an absence of exactly
seven minutes. The Englishmen had, however,
become accustomed to Yankee punctualityin lit
tle. matters of this kind; and expressed no surprise
at the suddenness of hig reappearance.
It was arranged that the parties should sit at the
opposite ends of a table agoutf twenty feet long,
which was in the centre of the room. I was to give
the sional—« Are you rgady Fire—one—two—
three?'*—-the parties to fire between the count ; their
pistols to remain on the table until the call—* Are
you ready ?” &
I glanced at my principal as 1 was about to give
the signal, and was struck with the expression of
his countenance. His lips were slightly compress- 1
ed; his brow shut down (if T may use the term)
pverfihis eyes, which were fixed like those of a man i
1n a fit.
-4 Are you rcad{'l” I exclaimed. -~ ..
The parties took up their pistols. i
“ Fire—one—two—" " ;
There was a single explosion. The Englishman
sprung from his chair, and fell beavily on the floor,
his pistol going off as he came to the ground.* The
ball from the pistol of my friend had entered his
antagonists eye and lodged in his brain, instantly
depriving him of life.
“ Gentlemen,” said the survivivor, addressing
the English officers with a calmness that appeared
to me unnatural and revolting—¢ gentlemen, you
and not myself must answer for that man's death.
It was you who set him on- you have followed me
for a whole week with insults which I was at last
compelled to notice. Are you satisfied gentlemen,
or would you like to avenge the death you have
caused ?” and as he uttered these last words, he
surveyed the group of Englishmen wtth an expres
sion of countenance so contemptuous, that it was,
as indeed he designed it to be, an insult to each
and every one of the persons addressed, one of
whom immediately took it up and challenged the
insulter. .
It was in vain that I protested, and appealed to |
my friend and his antagonists to put a stop to this l
wholesale murder. Lieutecnant —— said to me, {
quietly—¢ Captain ——, if you do not wish to act |
as my second, oblice me by retiring—l can get a
long without assistance.”
_ The pistols were again loaded ; the second Eng
lishman took the seat in which the first had been
killed, and I again stood up and gave the signal—
“ Are you ready—Fire—one—two—" p
The exploston followed the utterance of the
word two, and the Englishman was dead—shot in
the same place.
o Qentlemen,” said the Lieutenant, with the same
insulting calmness—* time presscs—lload the pis- |
tols and I will kill you one after another, as fast as |
you get into that chair.” |
But they had had enough. Lieut. —— sailed
the same night for Mahon. He was known then,
and is known now, as the best shot in the whole
navy. He never missed his man—never received
a scratch himself—for ke never gave an antagonist a
chance to fire.
DUEL BETWEEN RANDOLPH AND CLAY. |
The account of the dnel which we extract has
been given to the public in a letter of Gen. James
Hamilton, who accompanied Mr. Randolph to the i
fiold on thic acocacian, in eoanjunation with ('al Tat.
nall, then in Congress from Georgia.
“ The nicht before the duel, Mr. Randolph cent
for me. T found him calm, but in a singularly con
fiding mood. He told me that he had something on
h» mind to tell me. :
He then remarked—Hamilton, T am determined
to receive without returning Clay’s fire; nothing
shall induce me to harm a hair of his head ; T will
not make his wife a widow, or his children orphans.
Their tears would be shed over hisgrave; but when
the sod of Virginia rests on my bosom, there is not
in the wide world an individual to pay this tribute
upon mine.” His eyes filled, and resting his head
upon his hand, he remained silent.
I replied, *My dear friend,” (for ours was a post
humous friendship bequeathed by our mothers,) ‘I
deeply regret that you have mentioned this subject
to me, for you called me to go to the field, and see
you shot down, or to assume the responsibility in
regard to your own life, in sustaining your determi
nation to throw it away. But on this subject a
man’s own conscience and his own bosom are his
best monitors. I will not advise; but under the
enormous and unprovoked personal insults you have
offered Mr. Clay, I cannot dissuade. I feel bound,
however, to communicate to Col, Tattnall your de
cision.”
He begaed me not to do so, and said he was very
much afraid that Tattnall would take the steeds,
and refuse to go out with him. T, however, sought
Col. Tattnall, and we repaired about midnight to
Mr. Randolph’s lodgings, whom we found reading
Milton’s great pocm. For some moments he did
not permit us to say a word in relation to the ap
proaching duel, and at once commenced one of
those delightful criticisms in which he was wont so
enthusiastically to indulge.
After -a_pause, Col. Tattnall remarked—Mr.
Randolph, I am told you are determined not to re
turn Mr. Clay’s fire ; I must say to you my dear
sir, if T am only going out to see you shot dewn,
you must find some other friend.” e ‘
Mr. Randolph, remarked that such was his de
‘termination. After much conversation on the sub
ject, T induced Col. Tattnall to allow Mr. Randolph
‘to take his own course, as his withdrawal as one of
his friends might lead to very injurious miscon
structions. At last Mr. Randolph, smilingly said—
‘\"(gall, Tattnall, I promise you one thing, if I see
the devil in Clay’s eye, and that with malice pre
yense he means t%pke my life, I may change my
ind;’ sagy remark hi@' '_.fie‘. ihérely Me to P‘!"Of
pitiate the anxiety of his friend. ”‘Y, et
- Mr. Clay and “himself met at four o’clock the
succeeding evening on the banks of the Potomac.
But he saw no ‘devil in Clay’s eye,” but a man fear
less, and expressing the mingled senmsibility and
firmness which belonged to the occasion. :
I shall never forget this scene as long as I live.
It has been my misfortune to witness several duels,
but I never saw one, at least in its sequel, so deep
ly affecting. ‘ »
The sun was just sinking behind the blue hills of
Randolph’s own Virginia. Here were two of the
most extraordinary men our country in its prodi
,gality had produced, about to meet in mortal com
at.
While Tattnall was loading Ran®]Eh’g pistol, 1
approache%;xy friend, T believedsfor the last time.
I took his hand, there was not In his touch the
quickening of one pulsation. He turned to me
and said, ‘Clay is calyh, but not vindictive. I hold
my purpose, Mr. Hamilton, in any event, remem
ber this.
On handing him the pistol, Col. Tnttnall sprung
the hair trigger. Randolph said— !
“Tattnall, although I am one of the best shots in
Virginia, with either pistol or gun, yet I never fire
with a hair trigger; besides, 1 bave a thigk buck
skin glove on, which will destroy the delicacy of
my touch, and the trigger may fly before I know
where T am.’ _
But from his great solicitude for his friend, Tatt
nall insisted upon hairing the trifi%er. On taking
position, the fact turned out as Mr. Randogxh an
ticipated ; his pistol went off before the word, with
muzzle down. :
~ The moment the event took place, Gen. Jessup,
Mr. Clay’s friend, called out that he would instant
ly leave the field with bis friend if it occurred
‘again. Mr. Clay'#t once exclaimed that it was en
tirely an accident, and begged that the gentleman
VOL. XCIL—NO 40.
might be allowed to go on. On the word being
' iven, Mr. Clay fired without effect— Mr. Randolph
giscbarged his pistol in the air.
The moment Mr. Clay saw that Randolph threw
away his fire, with a gush of sensibility, he instant
ly approached Mr. Randolph, and said with an
emotion I never can forget—
- ‘I trust in God, my dear sir, you are untouched ;
after what has occurred, I would not harm you for
a thousand worlds I’ :
Deeply affected by this scene, T could not refrain
from grasping Mr. Clay by the hand, and said—
‘My good sir, we have been long separated, but
after the events of to-day, I fee! thatstve must be
friends forever.” ”— Historical Recollections of Vir
gma. ' A =
AN EAGLE IN A COCKPIT.
- “The Spanish barque Gallo de Pelen, on her last
‘Yoyage to Havana, was boarded by a young eagle.
Where ke came from no one on board could*imag
ine, unless he had escaped from some vessel and
lost himself on the ‘wide expanse of waters” He
seemed to be completely fagged out with his long
Jjourney, and could scarcely retain his hold on the
rigging. e was taken down, fed and petted, and
soon became very tame, and a great favorite with
the sailors. Havana, as everybody knows, is a
great place for cock-fighting, and our sailors were
not long in finding their way to a pit. On their
return to the barque, one of them, a long-legzed
Yankee, (who had been shipped to fill a vacancy
occasioned by the death of one of the crew,) pro
posed that they should go into a little speculation
with their eagle. This was agreed to, and the bird
of Jove was accordingly furnished with a beautiful
red flannel comb and gills, a neat coat of paint, a
pair of gafis, and he metamorphosed into a very
respectable looking fighting cock. The intellizence
that a Yankee game cock was to be scen on board
the Gallo de Pelen, was soon spread throughont the
city, and crowds came down to see him. IHe was
kept in the forecastle, and a few at a time admitted
at a small charge. But this was not enough—they
wanted to see him fight—Dbut none were bold enough
to risk a favorite cock against such a formidable
looking custumor. A match was finally made up
by giving large odds, and the pit was crowded al
most to suffocation. Everything having been pre
pared, the cocks were scientifically put into the
ring, but alas! for those who had taken so much
trouble, the fight was of the shortest kind. The
eagle not having been fed for a couple of days, was
ot course hungry, and not knowing the use of his
spurs, nor understanding in the least what was ex
pected of him, eschewed all fancy tricks, dashed in
eagle fashion upon his adversary, struck him with
his beak, seized a leg in each of his talons, tore
him completely open, and commenced eating him
with extreme gusto! The astonishment of the
Spaniards may possibly be imagined, but cannot
be described—there was some most horrible swear
ing in Spanish, with a slight sprinkling of broken
English, and all d—d Yankee game cocks were
unanimously consigned to a place of the warmest
description, the name of which it is net necessary
here to mention.”
Tue Ricn Man’s Waces.—Several gentlemen
on board a steamboat on a southern river were no
ficing and_commenting upon_thesiions they
somewhat rustic looking man who stood near him
and inquired who owned the elegant place then in
sight. “ Mr. Johnson is the owner,”” was the reply.
“ Well Mr. Johnson has a splendid farm then,” re
turned the gentleman. Presently, another planta
tion with its buildings attracted the attention of
these gentlemen, and the rough looking man was
again applied to for the name of the proprietor.—
% Mr. Johnson is the owner, ” said the man—* In
deed, the same man that owns the other?” ¢ Yes,
the same man. ” “ What a fortunate man this Mr.
Johnson must be to have two such establishments
as these.” A third, a fourth, and even a fifth plan
tation fell under the notice of the gentleman, and
in reply to their questions they were informed that
they also belonged to Mr. Johnson. * And who
takes care of all these farms for Mr. Johnson ? ”—
“T take care of them,” answered the piain looking:
man. ¢ Well it must be a great deal of trouble,
and he ought to pay you avell for it.” *He does
not, if he ought ” said the man. What does he
give you ?” asked the gentleman. *le only gives
me my victuals and clothes!” said the man, who
‘happened to be Mr. Johnson himself. * Only your
‘victnals and elothes for doing all that 1”
MorarL—You need not envy any rich man for
his riches—nor even a king upon his thrdne—pro
vided you are able to procure yout vicuals and
clothes.
A FrexcH BEGGAR.—Some time ago we gave
an account of the capture of a man named Goujon
for obtaining money anc other alms from charita
ble people, by pretending to fall in fainting fits
from want of food. His face was lank and pale,
represented extreme hunger with great fidelity,
whilst the wretchedness of his dress, and the elev
erness of his acting left no doubts on the minds of
spectators that he was really half famished. Yet
few men lived better than M. Goujon. DBefore
commencing his day’s work he took a substantial |
breakfast, washed down with excellent wings, and
cheered by the society of his young wife ; and he
wound them up by an equally substantial dinner
and equally exquisite. wines, whilst his evenings.
were passed at the theatres. -
When not engaged in business he was dressed
like a dandy of the very first water. At length his
doings came to the know]edge of the poli¢e, and he
was watehed. Proof of his guilt having been ob
tained, he was brought to trial. After the evidence .
against him was given, he urged in his defence
that he was a workman without employment, and
had been compelled to act as he did. That he
was not, however, in distress, was proved by the
manner in which helived, and by the faet that the
sum of 248 f. was found at his lodgings: The Tri
bunal condemned him to four months Imprison
ment, andordered that, aftér ‘undergoing that sen
tence, he should be lodged in a Depot de Medicite.
—Galignani Messenger. wa®
Music lIN 7HE FAMILY.—Its beneficial effects
may not be doubted. No family should fail to en
courage the largest amount of musical talent. In
dependent of its happy influences on the mind, it
should be fostered on account of its physical advan
tages, The late Dr. Rush said, “the Germans rare
ly die of consumption, because they are always .
singing.” If this beautiful accomplishment tends
in any degree to mitigate a malady'so terrible, for
the world’s sake, let us have a world of it. But
there arc other reasons—it induces amiability and
b}?gjshes bad passions.. We havle somewhere recd
the istimonyo “an excellent clergyman, possesc
ing%uch kno ;f > humantgrohoin'-, ;
structed a larga family of daughters in the ordina
ry practice of music. They were observed to be
amiable and bappy. Do e S
A friend inquired if there was any secret in his
mode of e:liuca:ig)sn, to which h% rgp{xcd : % When
anything disturbs their temper, I say to them, sing;
ang ifll‘ghe.a.g'@em speaking agm:syt any person; 1
call them to sing to me; and.they! sing away ail
dal.:’ ‘m this ac A.:w’:.%": . might
om to fit a family for th s company. 3‘k g
Sacred music at the hur gf-aorning and evening