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Wisconsin herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1846-1849, January 03, 1846, Image 1

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WIS C 0 N SIN BnER AE D.
BY JAMES M. GOODHUE.
VOL. 111.
POETRY.
For the Wisconsin Herald.
An Apostrophe to Winter.
BY ST. MAR.
>m the dark chambers of the distant north.
Where icy columns rear their glittering forms,
mighty rushing wings, thou contest forth,
Heral led by trumpets, and by storms;
ith clouds on clouds, around thy pathway
thrown,
Above thee, scowling heavens dark and deep,
T mu goest forth, unfathomable, unknown,
Thy power can none withstand, thy vigils,
none may keep.
hy throne is the eternal ice-bound pole,
Pillar’d by frosts and snows, and mountains
heaving high;
er arctic seas, thy sceptre bears control,
Supreme thy power, and dread thy majesty.
Arrayed with storms of hail and driving sleet,
On whirlwinds’ wings thou tower's! aloft sub
lime,
he huge, black waves, are bound beneath thy
feet.
And sullen gloom, frowns on the wintry sky.
Rnge on in all thy wrath; we feel that now,
Thou art mighty. Sweep on with all thy train
t’er forest trees, and hill, and mountains’ brow,
And bind with chains, lakes, rivers and the
swelling main.
'he bosom of our mother earth is chilled,
Each gust of wind, her wailing requiem rings;
e warbling music of her loved ones, stilled,
Tby voice alone, o'er conqured nature rings.
iail, to thee, hoary monatch of the year!
We are not left to weep o’er Summer’s grave
alone;
'or frozen tears thou weapest round her bier,
Around her lifeless form, the winding sheet
hast, thrown,
Onward, thy chariot wheels triumphant roll,
Exulting in the tenor of thy wide domain;
Wave, wave thy stormy sceptre o’er the whole,
destroying monarch: Glory in I'ny barren reign.
Patch Grove, Dec., 2S, 1845.
The Old Brown Coat.
AN AMERICAN TALE.
“ I reckon you see nothing very
particular in this, do you?” said an
American acquaintance of mine,
bringing out the cuff of an old coat,
.nd holding it tip before me, dangling
it between his finger and thumb.
“I can’t say that I do,” replied I;
“but I presume it has some secret mer
it which remains to be explained.”
“Ex-act-Ay,” replied my acquaint
ance, pronouncing each syllable of the
word apart; “yet the coat of which
this is the remaining cuff, was the oc
tasion of my being just now pretty
considerable well to do in the world;
I guess I’m right, ani’t I?” continued
he, appealing to his wife, a very pretty
young woman, who stood by him.
“So you seem to think,” replied
she, smiling, “but 1 am not convinced,
is far as I am concerned in the busi
ness, that the coat had anything to do
with it.”
“Well, then, I shall just tell my
story and leaieyou to decide,’’ said he
turning to me. “You must know that
there was a time when I was rather
hard up, and how to go ahead was the
business. I had tried at mercantile
speculation and sunk an immensity of
dollars. I had turned lawyer, but that
d not answer in any way. I took
to farming, no luck there. Went out
supercargo; the ship went on a reef
and lost the cargo. Returned to New
York, speculated a long while upon
nothing; didn’t much, that’s cer
'.atn, but didn’t realize, at last I gave
up business, and resolved to amuse my
self a little, so I went south and joined
Bolivar; I fought with him for three
years, and a good officer he was, but
he had one fault as a general, which
was ; his army never got paid. I wait
el my three years, and finding that
there was neither pay or plunder, I
gat tired of it and made my way home
tc, the States, and at last arrived at the
Capital with only one extra shirt, and
Irot a cent in my pocket. I happened
b meet with a tailor, whose customer
I had once been, when I had money
hd paid my bills; and he observed that
fry coat was rather shabby, and that I
r >uld not appear in it I knew that
fcery well,and that all he wanted was
fa order for another; but as I had no
tnaiice of paying him, I thought it ad
visable not to take the hint. “I think,
Y'd I,‘that with a new velvet collar
•ad brass buttons, it might do very
J ell for ar. evening partv.”
1 “I sec, ’ says he, ‘that’s an old coun-
WT cu ’t°m, wearing an old coat at a
w‘“ ; I guess you are going to Mr. T.’s
• morrow night. A regular flare up,
I am told —President there, and everv
Jody else. It’s hardly worth it,’ con
■nued he, touching the threadbare
“Yes it is,’ replied I; ‘there’ll be a
regular jam, and a new coat would be
spoiled. I'll send it to you to-night,
and you must let me have it in the
morning, so good-bye.*
“Well, the coat came home the next
day, not early in the morning as I ex
pected, but past meridian, and I walk
ed up and down my bed-room in my
trowsers, thinking what I should do.— |
At three o’clock I called upon Mrs. T
j and left my card; went back again and
waited two hours for the invitation—
|no invitation. Called again at five,
;and left another card, telling the nig
ger that I had not received an in ita
tion, and that there must be some mis
take; whereupon an invitation came
i about an hour after my return.just as I
I was putting my hat on to call again
and leave another card, in a very fierce
manner, I reckon. Well, I went ear
ly to the ball, and my’ coat looked re
markably gay. You could see that
the velvet collar was new, and the but
tons glittered famously, but you could
'see that the cloth was not a little the
' worse for wear; in short, my brown
coat looked very smart, and I was a
iconsiderabiesmart fellow myself just
I at that time.
“Well, I stood near the door, look
ing at the company coming in, hoping
to know somebody; but I presume 1
'had grown out of all recollection, foi
nobody knew me; but as the company
were announced I heard their names,
and. if they did not know who I was, at
all events I found out who they were.
“This won’t do, says I, as the rooms
became quite full. I may stick against
this wall till daylight, but I shall nev
er go ahead; so at last perceiving a
young lady speaking to the daughter of
the Secretary of the Navy; after they
parted, I went up and bowed to her.—
Having heard her name, I pretended
to bean old acquaintance, and accused
her of having forgotten me. As I was
very positive and very bold, she pre
sumed it was the case, and when I gave
her my name, which I refused to do till
we had been talking for some min
utes, as it happened to be a very good
'one, she considered that it was ail
right, and in another quarter of an
hour we became very intimate. 1
' then asked her if she knew Miss E.,
' the daughter of the Secretary of the
Navy. She replied that she did, and
; 1 requested her to introduce me, and
I offering her my arm, wc walked up
to the young lady together, and I was
i introduced. Now, thought I, lam go
jng ahead a little. After the introduc
tion J commenced a conversation with
Miss E., aud a gentleman fortunately
relieved me of my first acquaintance
, whose arm I had dropped. I contin
ued my attentions to Miss E., and cx
|crted myself to the utmost, and on the
strength of iny introduction and my
agreeableness, I was soon intimate with
her, and she accepted my arm. As I
paced her up and down the room, I
asked her if she knew the daughter
of General S., who was near us. She
replied in the affirmative, and I re
quested an introduction, which was
immediately complied with, and I of
fered her my other arm, and paraded
them both up and down the room, ma
king them laugh not a little
“Now I’m going ahead, thinks I,
and my old brown coat looks remarka
bly well.
“Here is the President coming up,’
said Mi«s E., ‘do you know him?’
“1 did, once, a little, but he must
have forgotten me rince I have been in
South America so long.’
“The President came right up to us
and addressed the young ladies; 1
made a sort of half how.
“You don’t recollect Mr. ?’
said Miss S.
“I recollect the name well,’ replied]
the President. ‘You are well support
ed, you have the Navy and the Army
on each side of you.*
“And the highest officer of the State
before me,’ replied I, with a low bow.'
‘I ought indeed to feel proud. Jt
makes amends for all the privation
that I underwent in my last campaign
witn General Bolivar: for the General
and his aidecamps fared no better
than the meanest soldier.’
“That last was a hit. I did not say
that 1 was aidecamp to Bolivar, but
they thought proper to fancy so; the
President made me a bow, and as it
appeared, he wanted to have some in
formation from that quarter; and he
asked me many questions, all of which
I was able to answer with precision.—
After a quarter of an hour’s conversa
tion, during which the whole room
were wondering who it was that was «o‘
LANCASTER, SATURDAY, JANUARY 3, 1846.
intimate with the President,and many
were trying to catch what was said, the
President presuming, as Bolivar’s
aidecamp, 1 could give him informa
tion upon a certain point, and not
wishing to have the answer public,
said to the young ladies, ‘I am going
to do a very rude thing; I wish to ask
a question, which Mr. would not
like to reply to except in confidence;
I must take him away from you for a
minute or two. I beg your pardon,
Mr. , but I feel and shall be truly
grateful for the great sacrifice you will
make in giving up for one moment
such charming society.* ‘I fear the
loss will only be on my part,’ said I to
the young ladies, as I dropped their
arms and followed the President to a
vacant spot near the ochestra. The
question which the President put to
me was one which I could not well
answer, but he helped me out of the
difficulty by answering it himself ac
cording to his own views, ai d then ap
pealing to me if it was not correct. I
replied, that I certainly was not at lib
erty, although I had left the service of
General Bolivar, to repeat all that I
knew; ‘fortunately,’ continued I, bow
ing,Jwhere such clear-sightedness is
apparent, there is no occasion for the
question being answered.’ ‘You arc
right, Mr. , I wish all those about
me had your discretion and high sense
of honor,’ replied the President, who
had one of my’ new brass buttons be
tween his thumb and finger; ‘and I
percive by your reply, that 1 was also
right in my conjecture. lam much
obliged to you, and trust I shall sec
you at the Government House.’ I
bowed and retired.
“I am going ahead now at all
events, thought I, as every one was
looking at me as I retreated. I had
been walking arm in arm with the
daughters ot the two first officers of
State, I had been in confidential com
munication with the President, and
that before all the elite of Washing
ton. 1 can now venture to order a
new suit of clothes, but will I
never will I forget you, my old brown
coat.
“The next day tho tailor came to
me, he had heard what had taken
place at the ball, and 1 amended my
wardrobe. Every body came to me
for orders, and I ordered every thing.
Cards were left in showers; I was re
ceived every where, the President was
my friend, and from that moment I
went ahead faster and faster every day,
till I am, as you now see, well off, well
married, and well up in the world.
“Now I do pertinaciously declare,
that it was all owing to the old brown
coat; and I have kept this cuff, which
I show now and then to my wife, to
prove that I am grateful, for had it not
been for the old coat. I should never
have been blessed with her for a com
panion.”
“But, ,’ said his wife, round
whose waist he had gently encircled
his arm, ‘the old brovvn coat would
have dene nothing without the velvet
collar and new brass buttons.’
“Certainly not, my dear.’
“And they would not have effected
much without they had been backed
by ’
“What?’
“Impudence? replied the lady, giv
ing him a slight slap on the cheek.
•d. .New Mode of liaising Tobac
co.—The following which is worthy
of the Parisian bohemiennes. occurred
in Pittsburg, where everything and
everybody smokes. A colored man,
who was very partial to the weed, but
whose exchequer prevented the indul
gence, met n little boy about three
years old on Fourth street, and accost
ed the little urchin with—“ How dare
you smoke a cigar? Throw it away
this instant, you little white rascal, or
I’ll tell your father!” The terrified
boy immmediately threw the stump
which he was smoking into the middle
of the street, and scampered off. The
darkey quietly picked up the castaway
fragment, and walked off, smoking it
with as much gusto as though it had
been “fresh as imported.”
River Railroad.— The engineer!
under the direction of John B. Jarvis,
Esq., are actively employed in survey
ing t’.u proposed line of the lU.er
Railroad. As far as they have reach
ed, the prospect is most favorable of an
easy and successful route. The Har
lem Company arc also prosecuting
their extension with great activity.—
The ground is broken as far as Put
nam line, and the contractors arc lo
cating the labrrers. It is expected
“ Plrogbd but to Truth, to Liberty ano Law,
No FAVOR SWAYS IS, ANO NO FEAR SHALL AWK.”
that the cars will pass from New York
to Somers early in the month of June
next.
Oregon.
The Herald goes for Oregon up to the
North Pole; i. e. to latitude 89 degrees and
fifty-five minutes—or within five minutes of
Sytnmes* Hole—where Capt. Symtnee, an
American, inoontestibly sunk a theoretical
shaft, years ago. That is our tiue northern
boundary. We like what follows on the sub
ject of Oregon, from the pen of the Hon. Ca
leb Cushing:
“Now, the British government is be
coming uneasy, because, witnessing
the influx, of emigrants into Oicgon
from the United States, it sees that (if
events be left to themselves) they will
speedily’overrun the whole country.—
And the American government is un
easy, because it cannot permit the
Hudson’s Bay Company to continue to
usurp the jurisdiction and military
possession of Oregon. This uneasi
ness, on both sides, induces, of course,
much solicitude in the minds of those,
whether English or American, who
deprecate the calamities of war at all
times, and especially of war between
the kindred nations of England and
America. And the question arises—
what then shall be done?
Many well meaning persons are in
favor of submitting the question to
some friendly power as arbitrator, I
am not of this opinion, for two rea
sons.
In the first place, there is no way to
enforce an award between independent
States. Arbitration between individ
uals in society is very well, for those
who like it, because the courts stand
ready to compel performance, if the
award be valid in form. But it is oth
erwise in the case of Governments; as
to which, as experience proves, arbi
tration only creates new difficulties, by
adding to the pre-existing controver
sy another in relation to the validity of
the award.
In the second place, I do not know
any pc .ver in Europe which has not
monarchial biases agatnst the Ameri
can democracy; and if a king C-uld be
found who is perfectly impartial, we
should have no safety in submitting to
his arbitration, because the European
kings do not transact the public busi
ness themselves; it is done by their
ministers; and to submit a question to
European sovereigns is to leave it to
some secretary, or chef de bureau, or
clerk in the departments, whom you
do not know, and who, however upright
his sovereign is,may be subject to class
biases or to pecuniary influence! fatal
to the integrity of his decision. In
private affaire, we can always find im
partial arbitrators, and wc know the
men; which i« impossible in an arbi
tration by a government.
What remains then, for the United
States in this important question? I
answer,
1. Time, the great regulator of all
things, in this world. If nothing else
i occur to dispose of the Oregon ques
tion, in time, the backwoodsmen of the
west will do it with their axes, cattle,
and ploughs, and if need be their ri
fles. Emigrants from the United
States have a land journey to Oregon,
which is, comparatively speaking,easy;
fortheir horsesand cattle feed them
selves on the road, carry or furnish
provisions for the emigrants, and carry
I the utensils and constitute the capital
with which the settler.* are to begin
' life in Oregon. Emigrants from Great
Britain have a much larger land jour
'iieytomakc, besides a sea voyage ol
three thousand miles; or, in the whole,
a sea voyage of enormous length and
-expenses, if they go by the Cape of
! Good Hope or Cape Horn. Besides
which, all British emigrants in Atncr
' ica have a great tendency to cease to be
Britons and to become Americans.
2. Negotiation. And it is deeply
regretted that in the whole course of
this affair the British government has
manifested so little of the spirit either
equity or conciliation. The continu
ance of this root of bitterness between
the two nations, is no fault, I repr at, of
the United States. Wc have strr ehed
conciliation and compromise to the ut
mo’t verge of honor, in an effort of
arrangement, and in so long suffering
the divided occupancy of territory be
lieved to be wholly our own. Or shall
we, the United States, tamely place
ourselves in the attitude of the degra
ded nations of Asia and Africa, and
quietly permit Eng'and to leave Eu
rope wh'-re she belong*, and come
over here to tie in America, as she
goes to Asia and Africa, to take any
part of the continent aha may please to
j fancy ’ ; Never.j -.
I 3. if'ar, therefore remains ns a
possible alternative; but one which, in
, tny opinion, there is not the slightest
present cause to apprehend. Remem
ber, war, to exist at all, must be an ag
gressive war on the part of Great Brit
ain. She must come here to seek it.
Wc are not proposing to go to Europe,
and to take from her Scotland or half
of Ireland by force. It is she who in
vades, and must assume all the haz
ards of invasion. Will she do this?
Ido not believe it. Sir Robert Peel
.may talk largely on the subject, for the
purpose cf carrying through Parlia
|ment seme critical domestic measure,
or in vain hope to intimidate the Uni
ted States. But is too de
pendent on America lor cotton and
corn to declare war against us lightly;
and sho cannot fail to remember how,
in two wars with us already, at a time
when we were much less powerful
than now, she gained nothing but de
feat and dishonor; for thrice only, in
the history of modern times, has it hap
pened to Britain, among so many bril
liant achievements of her’s in every
region of the habitable globe—thrice
only in modern history has it happen
ed to Britain to see her armies capitu
late and lay down their arms on the
field of battle; and each of these times
it was to the Stars and Stripes of the
United States that the cross of St.
George was lowered in humiliation
and sorrow; whilst our ships of war, in
like manner, disolve the charm of
British invincibility on the ocean.
1 reiterate the declaration, then,
that I think the existing panic on die
subject as idle as it is incomprehensi
ble, and that I have not the faintest
apprehension of the imminence of war
with Great Britain—confident, mean
while, that when, if ever, it docs come,
it will cease only with the utter ex
pulsion of her power from America.
In conclusion, permit me to say a
few words concerning the value and
importance of Oregon to the United
States.
That a region of (he earth, thrice as
large as the British islands, as large as
the thirteen original United Slates,
washed by the sea, with lour great riv
ers flowing into the sea, with many
valuable harbors in its more northern
parts, and unsurpassed fisheries—a re
gion possessed of a mild and temper
ate climate; capable of pasturing cat
tle the whole winter, wr||-woodcd,and
with much fertile and productive soil
—that such a region has valueW. is idle
ito controvert, and ridiculous to deny.
To be sure,there are large tracts of it
which are comparatively arid, or ft lied
with precipitous mountains; which
mountains, however, it is quite possi
ble, possess the same kind of mineral
riches which fill the southerly < ontin
uation of the a ranges, in Mexico; and
if it should prove otherwise, there
does not the less remain a vast amount
of habitable and fertile territory, ca
pable of sustaining in comfort and
happiness million,, of men. And'it is
a region of country naturally destined
to supply (he nations on the coast of
the i’acific’and its islands with lumber,
fish, breadstuff's, beef, and thus to pos
aeas immediately a lucrative commerce
on that ocean.
And its ultimate commercial value
if, indeed, that which causes England
to covet the possession of it, and to
i desire any disposition of it, rather than
its settlement by the United States.
For, in the region of Oregon, is to
grow up, ere many years p iss away, a
race or men, who will stand in the
same relation to the Pacific that we of
the eastern States do to the Atlantic,
and in the same relation to Asia that
we do to Europe. And the stake
therefore is worthy of all possible so
licitude to our whole country, and to us
of the cast, especially, who have twen
ty millions of property afloat in the
South Sea, without a harbor in which
we have a permanent right of refuge,
without an acre of land on which the
storm-tossed mariner can set his foot,
and feel himself resting at length un
der the protecting folds of the banner
of the Union.
Finally, it is not to be tolerated any
longer that England should consider
lhi\ continent the field for indulgence
of her insatiable thirst of conquest and
cu' nization. Is Brili-h intervention
in the aflairs of America to be dread
ed? How much mote, then, British
occupancy! Enough for her, and
more than enough for u*, that she
overhangs us already in the east and in
the north, without doing so likewise in
the west.
(ttr We continue below, the aarraiion of
British disasters in tho campaign of 1840— 1
agsinst the Afghans; which we commenced
last week:—
Murder of Sir ff r . Macnaghten
and Capt. Trevor. — I received a note
from Lawrence, enclosing ono from
Uonolly (Sir William’s nephew) to
Lady Ma3naght.cn, and had the e;«i
office imposed on me of informing
both her and Mrs. Trevor of their hus
bands* assassination : over such scene!
I draw a veil. It was a most painful
meeting to us all. Numerous reports
are current. That of to-day is, that
Sir William was taken to the city and
arraigned before a tribunal there for
want of faith, and that Trevor suffered
from the assiduity with which ho exe
cuted the Envoy’s orders. All reports
agree that both the Envoy’s and Tre
vor’s bodies arc hanging in the public
chouk: the Envoy’s decapitated and a
mere trunk ; the limbs having been
carried in triumph about the city.
A fallen man meets but little justice;
and reports arc rife that the Envoy was
guilty of double-dealing, treating with
Akbar Khan and Amenoollah Khan at
the same time. In justice to a dead
man it should be remembered that the
only person supposed to know tho ob
ject of the Envoy’s gmng out on the
23d was Skipnor, who is now in the
city. Sultan Khan was, I believe, the
name of the person who came in with
him, with a letter from Akbar Khan,
on the night of the 22d. In that let
ter, which was read by a friend of mine,
Akbar proposed that he should be made
wuzecr to Shah Soojah; ho was to re
ceive thirty lakhs of rupees down, .id
four lakhs per annum; our troops to
remain eight months, and then only to
go if the King wished them to do so.
He urgently requested the Envoy to
come and talk it over with him. Wo
'must hold in mind that, although wc
had performed all promises made on
our part, given up our waggons, am
munition, fori.*, &c., the treaty had
never been signed by the chiefs; nor
had they fulfilled a single condition
'which hud been specified verbally, be
yond giving us grain in small quanti
ties. The sequilur is, that the Envoy
was perfectly justified, as far as keeping
good faith went, in entering into any
arrangement by which the condition
of the troops could bo ameliorated, and
the honor of our country be insured.
He only erred in supposing it possible
that Akbar Khan, proverbially tho
most treacherous of all his country
men, could be sincere. It was a part
of Akbar Khan’s plan to have Amc*
noollah Khan seized, and brought to
cantonments as a hostage. It was a
most decided piece of treachery on tho
part of Akbar. They wire seated on
a bank together : Lawrence, a very
spunky, active man, felt as if some
thing was wrong, and, when urged to
sit, only knelt on one knee, that he
might start up on occasion ; but bis
pistol and sword were seized, and his
arm, secured instantaneously, which
rendered him powerless, and he was
hurried away behind a chief on horse
back ;as was Mackenzie. At that tirno
Maltotnmed Akbar Khan had seized
the Envoy by the left wrist,and Sultan
Jan held him by the right ; they drag
ged him down the bank, he exclaiming,
“Az burai Kodar !” (For the love of
God!) At tho moment ho was laid
hands on, Mackenzie, Trevor, and
Lawrence were disarmed, and forced
away en croup behind different chiefs.
They saw no more of the Envoy alive.
Sultan Jan, uttering an opprobrious
epithet, calling him a d“g, cut poor
Trevor down, as did also Moollali
Motnind. Mackenzie would have
shared the same fate, had not Mahu.’n
med Shah Khan, behind whom ho
rode, received the cut on his own arm,
which went through his posthcen.—•
Lawrence’s life was saved by hard gal
loping ; but he received some blows,
This account I had from the surviving
principals in the tragedy, so it may be
depended on as the true account. The
body we s:.w from the rear gate was
that of the Envoy.
The lietreat from Cabul.— Tho
troop, had been on half rations during
the whole of the siege: they consisted
of half a seer of wheat per diem, with
melted ghee or dhl, for fighting men ;
and for camp-followers, fur some time,
of a quarter of a seer of wheat or
barley. Our cattle, public or private,
(Continued on fourth pigs)
NO. 43.

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