Delaware inquirer., July 30, 1859, Image 1

About Delaware inquirer. (Wilmington, Del.) 1859-18??

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JOB PRINTING
Qt evory description uoatly and promptly executed at
between 4th and 8th Htroots,
WILMINOTON, DELAWARE.
JAMES MONTGOMERY,
ute printing of every description In a
s manner, and on as reasonable to
country—such as
HANDBILLS,
SHOW BILLS,
LABELS,
BLANKS,
&e.,-Ac.,
is proparod to
as any establishment iu
PAMPHLETS,
BUSINESS CARDS,
CIRCULARS, •
. BILL HEADINGS,
DEEDS,
Mills friends and the public genorally
yl-cd to send In their orders.
Tho Jobs
otherwise to
rcNpcctfully In
by
placeTotCe^Uto
be
Poetry.
THE WOÖDLAND GBAVE.
JAMES MONTGOMERY.
jodland grave at night,
spread its bloom,
vas shining bright
I stood by tho
Where tho wild
And tho silv'ry moon
O'er tho lone and silent tomb.
The tow.'ring oak
Spread round
And its sturdy arms
its native pride,
tTio shades of oven',
spreading wide
In tho beautiful blue of Heaven.
I thought I heard in the owlet's cry,
As she murmured her
I thought I heard in the breeze's sigh :
" Seek hither a rest from
•liful air,
Tue wild-bird's song, when the morning be
jotly o'er thy dwelling,
pleasant dream
Smiles
Shall waken
Of joy in thy bosom swelling.
shall water thy bod,
Tho dew-drop tot
And garland thy grave with flowers—
The stranger's heart shall envy the dead
That sleep in these fairy bowers.
my life's career
id in the shades of
I wish wlicnevc
Shall
A woodland grave and
*Pon which
oak tree near,
y gaze from Heaven.
Written for the Delaware Inquirer .
THE QUAKER SPY.
AHOMANOB
moLiiT : o it.
JAMES MONTGOMERY.
CHAPTER IV.— Continued.
At length night drew its sable curtains a
tlie
friends
d wound their way towards the
A then they passed pick
relieving guard ;
Schuylkill,
City. Every ;
ets upon duty
(I soldier
i seemed disposed to molest
Doubtless their plain dress
but
rupt them.
red Willit
d the company of a lady
Way from many inquisitive questions.
ight yet tho travellers, by the light of
the lamps, could distinguish tire soldiers from
s they passed along the streets
towards the place of their destination. Anx
iously did they scrutinize every passer-by to
ong the throng that
It
the citize
if William
glided to and fro ; doubtless about their re
spective avocations. But nothing could bo
information concerning
his whereabouts. Guided by the directions
of the young girl William drove up to the
door of the house iu Third Street whore Jos
hua had been confined but a short time before.
died backwards aud
Fanny inquired if
Ephraim Yarnoll resided there ? The soldier
answered in a very gruff tone: " It is
of my business, and I never inquired who
lived hero ; but there is one thing certain,
body can enter or come out of this house while
I stand here. The
ten to indicate i
A stout hurley soldier
ds before the door.
spys about, and /
assure you that
id brimmed liât
id 1
emy close by,
straight coat and b
recommendations in this quarter."
" Cannot you inquire if
hero f I know that this is his house, but things
kinsman lives
knowing
that there is
liavo changed
who lives here and who does not.
relative lives
kind enough to inquire if
bore ?"
The soldier replied: "my orders
enter this house, you
here until tho Sergeant of tlio guard relieves
mo and hear what he has to say."
" How long will that be?" Inquired Fanny.
twenty minutes,"
positive ;
remain
" Not
than fifteen
replied the Guard.
Our travellers sat in their vehicle to
ivait
tho arival of the only person who could give
them any information upon a subjeot of the
gravest importance to them. The cold winds
of December were blowing fiercely around
them they had travelled what—to them was a
very long journey and they felt chilly and
dispirited. Tho Guard marched his weary
Journey—to aud fro. Small squads of
hurried by, and every few minutes a pedes,
trian, a little more inquisitive than the rest,
would stop and peer into the faces, of William
and Fany, and then with acontemptious sneer
pass on. They however did not have to sit
long in this situation before the Sergeant of
tho Guard and a number of men, with guns
upon their shoulders, came up. Tho Guard
did not attempt to make any explanation
corning our friends in the vehicle. The Ser
geant with an inquisitive air scanned William,
for a minute or two, and then inquired who
he was and what his business could be.
William answered the questions with so much
eand :>r that tho generous soldier seemed to
appreciate tho situation of the travellers and
told them that he did not know who lived in
the house Itimself but he would make the
requisite inquiring. He told them a part of
the house was used by the army but the fami
ly resided still jq a portion of it. He dis
appeared for a moment and then returned
with the answer thift Ephraim Yarnoll resided
there. This information delighted Fanny
little, and she asked permission, of the soldier
to enter the house. After scrutinizing the
travellers closely ho permitted William and
Fanny to enter the house. They
ceived cordially by Ephraim and his good lady
who
very much surprised at their unex
pected'visit. The Sergeant gave them to
understand that the guard would not let any
one leave the house during tho night. Wil
liam asked permission to put away his horse
but the officer told him that proper care had
been taken of the animal; that under
I olrcntn
stance could any one leave the premises. -
Weary and tired
the fire that evening, and talked
fairs of the nation ; inquiry was made after
the condition of things in Delaware, by the
Philadelphians, and properly answered by the
Wihningtonians. Fanny
a single word about the stand that her friends
friends, sat around
the af
afraid to breath
P-i
[N
D
D
D
;
A
A
□
U3STITT, EQUALITY, FEATHBJSriTY. w
H
BY JAMES MONTGOMERY, No. 95 SHIPLEY STREET, BETWEEN FOURTH AMD FIFTH STREETS, WILMINGTON, DELAWARE.
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY,
$2.00 PER ANNUM.
SATURDAY, JULY 30,1859.
VOLUME L-No. XL
A
a
had taken in regard to tho mother country.—
Many
unexpected visit to Philadelphia during these
troublous times but Fanny, who
principal spokesman, gave
answer, and in fact she appeared to take
notice of the insinuation. The conversation
until the
insinuated about their
inquiry
in
satisfactory
of
is
continued and the night waned
travellers weary and dispirited retired to their
fronted
respective lodgings. Fanny
the street and before she retired she raised
d took a view of tho premises
not so dark but objects
1 the blood
she saw the Guard march
ing to and fro before the door. She felt her
self a prisoner, although she knew that if tho
American soldiers knew who she really
there would bo no danger of her safety.—
about retiring to bed a voice,
. It seemed like
her window
below. The night
could be distinctly seen ;
cold In her veins
Just as she
from below, struck her
is
it
talking ÿ> himself. Fanny
* and then catch a
indistinct and so
listened ; she could
two but they
disconnected Hint she could not comprehend
their meaning, tihe placed her
iu the floor and listened attentively for a few
ord
to a crack
her brow
ids. She placed her hand
if to recall her bewildered senses and then lis
tened intently. Still the voice below contin
d. Fanny placed her ear to a crevioo in the
floor and heard a voice distinctly say :
What will my poor mother think when
«lie hoars of the fate of her son ; what will
Fanny think-"
She listoued no longer. Standing erect,she
paused in deep meditation for a short time,
apparently to see if her mind was wandering,
and then plying her ear to the crevice again
she seemed to drink in every word that was
uttered by the person below. Rising from
her reclining position she thought to herself
that this might be Joshua and that probably
u worse calamity was awaiting him. Would
sho speak to him and tell him that she
nigh and would render him every aid that
laid in her power. But would not the sen
tinel, who paraded before her door, hear her
if she even spoke. But, Oh! there must be
something terrible the matter to make the
prisoner give vent to his feelings in such bitter
anguish as sho had just heard. Can she be
of any assistance to him ; can she provide the
for his escape or will it prove his utter
ruin to communicate a single word to him.—
With thoughts like those, Fanny paced her
a
in utmost despair. At length resolu
rercame her timidity. She determined
who above all others, she
to speak to the
deemed the least capable to commit crime—
whom she had bestowed lier affections
id for whom she wa
w willing to
any
risk to do a service. With the intention of
doing something that might have a tendency
to liberate Joshua, she placed her mouth to
tho crevice at which she had been listening,
d whispered the single word—"Joshua."
Tho prisoner started with surprise—he
gazed around his room
apparition
present ; ho grasped his brow in both
attempting to
hands and se
if If
I to distinguish betwe
mil his senses
tho reality of what he had heard and the
vings of his
dibly hoard to pronounce
" Joshua, is that thee ?"
mind. Again the voie
longer bewildered ; the
Fanny. His atten
tion was directed towards the ceiling and
through a small crevice in it ho could distinct
a small light resembling a star.—
Was this tho star of his deliverance ? Was
this tho spirit of his Fanny in the guise of a
star that had
the last night of his existence :
His
a
je was that of his
him during
to watch
" Oh ! raving mind ; distorted imagination ;
you sport
you deceive
; how
how
with my situation."
"Joshua, do not let*thy imagination prey
so heavily upon thee ; it is thy
who speaks to thee. Tell
thou art confined thus and do not keep
suspense," whispered Fanny.
Fanny
, quickly, why
The mind of Joshua began to realize the
true state of the c
the star that shone down upon him
the work of the imagination but a reality.—
, at a glauco, tho true cause of the
glimmering light above him and his keen per
ception
that made it. Hope once
brighten. He would yet establish his inno
cence and be able to accomplish his errand.—
Ho replied :
"Can it be possible that thou art here n;
, my true Fanny. But thy visit is tot
late—to-morrow the hand of„the executioner
but till
distinctly that
. He
not
He
a
not long in ascertaining the cause
began to
will do his work. Fanny I
to-day
reason that I cannot account for,
Jting—they would have executed
tut for
havo postponed it until to
these men of
morrow."
This intelligence went like electricity thro'
Fanny's brain. With breathless haste sho
inquired tho cause of this terrible disaster,
and when she heard that he
of being a spy, the whole facts of tho
became apparent. One moment more and
her resolution
to
to
found guilty
fixed.
CHAPTER V.
WASHINGTON.
FANNY'S INTERVIEW Wl
just dawning when a delicate
of a soldier, was
The day
girl, leaning upon the
moving with a hurried gait along Mar
ket street. At short distances, small groups
of soldiers might have been
gaged in conversation or marching to and fro
before a mansion that might perhaps contain
be the temporary domicil
munitions of
of some officer of the army. As the pedes
triaus.hurried by the soldiers tlièy tipped
their hats, hut the travellers passed unmo
lested. Arriving in the front of a house of
genteel appearaiice, before which a number
of soldiers
congregated, the soldier
paused a moment and gave the countersign ;
tho guard presented arms and our friends
tered a very neat parlor fronting on the street.
The Commander-in-Chief of tho American ar
seatod before ni/ old-fashioned tea
table. Although the scfn had not risen, yet
the stern patriot, upon whom depended the
destiny of the nation, was at hid daily toil.—
my
A waxen candle sent forth its feeble light
a rude map of New Jersey. When Fanny
d her companion entered, the General arose
d looked with an inquisitive eyo upon the
y,dressed
F
feminine creature before him.
in tho plain attire of the sect of which she
was a strict and consistent member, quailed
not before tho scrutinizing glance of
far her superior. Washington
of easy manners and his
to inspire confidence even in the
most humble. Fanny broke the silence :
" Friend, I come to thee upon a mission of
mercy. Thou hast a person in whom I
very nearly interested, in confinement ; and
farther, ho i
is to undergo the penalty of the law for that
offence this morning. My mission to thee is
that thou shouldst pay that young
visit and see if thou thinkest ho is a spy and
rersation
is al.
rays
detuned for being a spy, and
is guilty of tho offenco charged to him.
know full well that the circumstances i
against him and that in these troublous times
it is difficult to establish the truth in many
that interest the public mind. I know
brethren have had their
matte;
that many of
sympathies enlisted upon the loyal side of the
dispute that is
Britain and America. But, friend, that has
raging between Great
with Joshua Way. He is a
not been the
youth of probity and honor ; whatever he
tells thee thee may depend upon, for he is a
of principle."
Washington looked upon Fanny with an
eye that could read the deepest recesses of
that honesty
depicted
her heart. He
in her countenance and that the childish si
not tho cunning
plicity of the artless girl
of the desembler. But when he thought how
often the Americans had been deceived by spys
in the garb of tho Quaker, his resolution, for
a moment, wavered. Fanny, anxions to push
her suit, continued :
"Friend Washington, if thou wilt merely
listen to this prisoner for a few minutes I
will change.—
think thy opinion of his
What would be thy thoughts, if thou art a
, if by not seeing this helpless
prisoner he should bo deprived of his life.—
An innocent
povtunity to establish his innocence would
be a blight upon tho American cause that nei
ther time
from tho American character. Friend Wash
ington, time presses, it is scarcely
before the unhappy
of
executed for want of
op
circumstances could
hour
will be launched into
eternity."
At the thought of the near approach of tho
hour of execution, the blood rushed to her
her bewildered
d she would have fallen to the floor,
face, a dizziness
senses,
but for the Commander-in-Chief, who caught
and placed lier ii
recovered sufficiently to ad
her in his
chair. Sue
monish Washington that the time for the
short and that if any
lost it would be too late to
ecution of the spy
time
the
life of Joshua. Hurriedly ho took up a pen
and wrote a few lines
piece of paper and
the hands of a soldier ; he
placed it i
said something in a hurried manner and the
his mission.—
soldier hastened away
Washington returned to Fanny, who
making preparations to hasten to Joshua.
Leaving Fanny to pursue her journey alone
turn to a scone that is transpiring in
another quarter of tho city.
let
On a'vacant lot, in the southern part of the
city, a group of soldiers is assembled around
a gallows. The soldiers are formed in hollow
with bayonets fixed and presented.—
muffled drum and
heard in the distdhee. The
sic approaches ; a cart is aproaohing ; in the
middlo of the cart seated upon a coffin, sat
the young Quaker with his hands hound be
hind him. They approached the fatal gal
lows ; tho soldiers parted and the cart
driven under the gallows. In revolutionary
but little ceremony used in
to this spirit, the offieia
squt
In a few minutes
music
times there
executions. T
ting soldiers busied themselves in making
the necessary arrangements to carry out the
decision ot the court. The rope
adjust
ed, and all stood ready anxious to
r. Joshua motioned the audience
about to
ecution
to silence with his hand, and
effort to assert his innocence when
running into the midst of the
a soldier
soldiers and then presented a paper to the
captain. The soldier opened the missive and
read aloud :
Philadelphia, December 23, 1776.
Caft. Waynb :—Dear Sir .—It is my desire
that the young man calling hjmself Joshua
...i-, i... he executed this morning,.bo respited
for the present, and brought immediately be
fore
Respectfully, •
GEORGE WASHINGTON,
Commander, &c.
perceptible through
A slight murmur
out the soldiery. A murmur of*dissatisfac
tion at a failure to execute what they beliovod
unbound and led
to be a spy. Joshua
In a short time he
led into the
away.
august presence of Washington where Fanny
had tlie interview but
General scanned the young Quaker from head
to foot. With a suspicion that always marks
tho sagacious soldier, Washington interroga
ted Joshua. He told him of the danger at
tending the precarious business of spy ; of
the terrible punishment for such offence, and
the narrow escape he had just had Irom the
gallows. Joshua replied :
hour before. The
"Friend, if thou thinkest that I would de
any deception to deceive the
semble
American army thou art mistaken. My bus
with
in coming to Philadelphia,
thee. I had a message for thee, which 1
but thee ; if
would not deliver to any
this is a crime, I
with which these words
sufficient to convince tho General that ho
guilty." The emphasis
delivered, was
sincere.
" What is your message ?" inquired Wash
ington.
and delivered the informa
Joshua went
tion imparled by Edith to him and explained
the mode of the intended attack of the Brit
well and with
much sincerity, that
ground left for suspicion. The
ish
thoro
simplicity of tho young Quaker and the
neatness with whioh he delivered his message
completely won Washington's favor and he
conceived the idea of turning his straight
coat and broad-rimmed beaver to account.—
He addressed him thus :
" Young
is of the greatest importance for which
in tho name of the American cause I thank
you have imparted
, tho
to
you and your venerable grand parent has
conferred a favor upon us that cannot be fully
appreciated, at present, for which I will thank
her in person. But, young
risked your life almost too far, to be faithful
to tho trust confided to you. From this day
freo ; and in order that you
is
you have
forward you
may pass and repass without molestation you
shall always be furnished with tho pass word
of the army, to he used by you with such
discretion
you may deem prudent."
Joshua thanked the General for his kind
and Washington motioned the guard to
, and then proceeded :
" Probably it will be a great acquisition to
the cause to have such a
leave tho
employ
3 . In these perilous times there ;
do to pro
wil
will
as you
a great many things that you c
mote the cause of freedom. If you
ling I will make such arrangements
place you beyond arrest while in
and provide for your support. The service 1
desiro you to perform will require a great
deal of sagacity and nerve, but I perceive you
have the nerve sufficiently for my purpose ;
a
a
consequently, if you
service,
proper to enter
doubt, be under many
pay will not be
will,
of
obligations to you. Y
much, for the funds of the government are
so low that extraordinary means have to be
used to get the ordinary necessaries of life."
Joshua listened, with marked attention, to
who had just saved his life, and who
proposed to employ him in the army. When
he concluded, the young man assented to the
conditiou that he might have
the
proposition
opportunity to return to Delaware and
visit his friends before he should enter upon
i agreed upon. While Joshua
thus making arrange
duty. This
and Washington
ments for their future operations, Fanny
I
a
tered the apartment attended by William.—
A few minutes
and Joshua related all
that had occurred and gave her to understand
that
LS engaged to serve the cause
in various ways and would be required to ac
company the array. This
he
arrangement
did not suit Fanny's notion of things and she
objected and descanted upon the perils he had
just undergone, and how
his life ; hut Joshua had made up his mind
to enter the service of Washington and
losing
■
argument could induce him to give up his
their
project. In an hour
way to Wilmington enjoying a pleasant
versation.
CHAPTER VI.
The day before Christmas, 1776, let
take a couple of pedestrians
leads towards Trenton from the south and lis
ten to their conversation. One of them is
other than our friend Joshua Way, and
tho other, an officer of the British army that
encamped near by. The officor, a little
loquacious as well as inquisitive, was doing
the principal part of the talking, while the
young Quaker, with ears open, was drinking
in every word. The officer proceeded :
"How strong do you suppose the rebel
army to be."
Joshua thought it might consist of about
four thousand men, who were poorly clad,
nothing to eat, and ready to desert at any
time. The officer, anxious to have good
to communicate to his superior, inquired :
" When did you say Washington was going
to evacuate Philadelphia and march to the
interior of Pennsylvania?"
"To-morrow," replied Joshua.
" Well, then," mused the officor, " we will
let the gentleman retire without a fight ; it is
a great deal the easiest way to capture a city,
to wait uutil tho enemy leaves and then march
in ; it makes a bloodless victory, which iß a
great deal more palatable than to have to
the risk of being shot."
Joshua listened to the officer's soliloquy
over
the road that
without taking any apparent notice of what
he said and
an opportunity offered
continued to enlighten his companion upon
the state of affairs in and about Philadelphia.
"Friend, I have been through the rebel
camp and I have learned that provisions and
munitions of war have become so scarce that
imposssibility for them to re
main much longer in*their present quarters."
"Good!" shouted the officor, "
off their retreat and they will fall iu
hands without much difficulty. This will be
the next thing to a bloodless victory."
Addressing the young Quaker with empha
sis the officer continued :
it would he
will cut
"You deserve something right clever for
the information you have imparted, and I
doubt not, General Howe, when lie hears of
the service you have rendered, will give you
a commission in the army. The service you
have
dered will be fully appreciated by
His Highness at home ; he delights in having
such subjects
In a few
as you
miuutes
our pedestrians
in the marquee of Col. Rawle, who ques
tioned the young Quaker very closely to
if he would contradict himself. But Joshua
not to be caught in a trap of this kind.
The Colonel still interrogated :
"What is your name, sir?"
" Ephraim Yarnell, Jr.," replied the young
i, ironically.
" Of the persuasion of Quakers, I pre
sume ?"
the reply.
"You bring information from the rebel
army ?"
"Yes I"
" Who sent you with this
"My father."
" What objeot had he in view in sending
you with the information that the rebel army
about to retreat to the interior of Penn
sylvania ?"
"That you might send a sufficient force to
cut them off and gain a victory without the
sacrifice of much blood."
?"
" This looks plausible, coming from a Quo
will send a few of
ker, and I think
and intercept their return."
" Thee had hotter not send a few, for men
fighting for their lives, as the rebels will have
to do, will light hard."
" That is true ;
cient force to capture them all at once witli
ing much risk; and then, if we should
capture the Commander himself, there will be
ond of it."
Joshua made
" Are there many of the King's loyal sub
jects in Philadelphia who would aid us in cap
turing these rebols and end this bloody re
bellion ?"
had better send a suffl
reply. Rawlo continued :
very many of the Friends
"Friend, there
of Peace who would do almost any thing to
establish
stop this bloodshed and
peace and happiness in the land. They
good loyal subjects but do not fight ; they
will furnish thee with the comforts of life but
will not shed blood."
" That is better than to be open enemies
they reconcile the
against us. But how
furnishing of information that will lead to
bloodshed, with their notions of peace,"
mused the Colonel. " But what need
o care
so long as they play into our hands."
At this juncture two
tered,
which
three soldiers cn
of whom proposed a game of chess,
agreed upon and the Colonel
deeply ah
and
sorbed iu tho game. A soldier entered and
presented Rawlo with a note, which without
opening he quietly placed in his pocket, and
then resumed the game. Joshua sauntered
about the camp listening to the conversation
eye to every
of the
r-comera
of tho soldiers and keepiug
thing he spent tho greater part of the day.—
Having heard the pass word given by his con
ductor when he entered the camp, he had easy
access everywhere ; consequently he
close observer of the breast works, and the
disposition of the army generally. The rude
jests of the soldiers
post to another, fell like the idle wind upon
his ear—he paid not the least attention to
any of them. Towards the close of the day
he took his departure from the camp and pur
sued his journey towards Philadelphia unmo
lested. He arrived ift that city early in the
•niug after a journey of twenty miles
a road that the frosts of winter had made
tremely difficult to travel. The preBtige of
the pass word given him by Washington,
made him respected wherever ho went and
not long in finding his way to the
Commaudor's apartment. Washington re
ceived him with a cordial welcome, and with
anxiety rarely witnessed in him inquired
what success had attended his journey to
Trenton. Joshua related the whole circum
stance—told him tho situation of the army
and that Col. Rawle was determined to divide
he passed from
he
and send a large number of
intercept the retreat of the rebels and finally
capture Washington himself. The Comman
der drank in evory word the young Quaker
said and
to
his
s each point in the resolution of the
s related to him he formed plans to
enemy
counteract them. He
, at a simple glance,
perfctly adapted to tho
that Joshua Way
business he had choseu him for. He inquired
every particular concerning the intention of
Ua wie and the exact time lie would send his
forces to cut off his retreat. It
stroke in the young Quaker to suggest the
propriety of sending a sufficient force to cut
This will divide his attention
attack
a master
off
retreat.
as well as tho army, aud then we
the remaining force at Trenton by surprise,
and no doubt defeat it," mused Washington,
as he counted the chances for aud against him.
To merely enter the camp of the enemy and
spy into his position and report tho same at
head-quarters, would amount to very little
towards defeating him. Washington
made arrangements for the attack and Joshua
chosen to play a conspicuous part in the
. He
to be Aid-de
great drama of
Camp to Washington himself, and for that
purpose his broad-brimmed beavor and straight
laid aside aud the hunting shirt and
coat
buckskin breeches of the rebel army, substi
tuted. Henceforth his quarters are tho
house with Washington, and they frequently
converse qnite freely upon the coming expe
dition. Baron Steuben was sent for and the
plan of operations disclosed to him who
highly delighted with tho prospect of gaining
a victory
superiority
evinced so little mercy
British did. Perfect secrecy was agreed upon
between the trio—and no one was to be in
formed upon the project but themselves—and
everything was prepared for the movement of
tho army. At four o'olock in the afternoon,
the drums beat to arms umid a terrible Btorm
of wind and sloet.
Tho Delaware was filled with floating ice
and hundreds of
ring barges and vessels and scouring them to
the wharves. The tramp of horses, the roll
of drums and the hoarse voice of man mingled
promiscuously with the blast. The brave
old Baron Steuben's voice was heard above
the tempest encouraging tho troops aud giv
ing directions to their movements. Joshua,
though less active than those engaged in
king the necessary preparations to transport
ing the army across the turbulent Delaware,
by the side of Washington.
The young Quaker had undergone a perfect
metamorphose. He
soldier. He
in his mind, tho power to throw off the plain
language of the Quaker, and to assume the
air of a soldier, all of which he faneied he
could accomplish. To do this would be ac
tually necessary or perhaps & few thee's and
thon's would bo very unnecessary appendages
If caught in the enemy's camp.
TO DE CONTINÜSD.
enemy that boasted so much
the Americans, and who
a fallen foe
engaged In proou
a dashing young
busily engaged iu practicing,
Refuse of Tanneries as a Manub*. —At a
late meeting of the Farmers' Club of Little
Falls, the subject of using tbe refuse of tan
neries, hair, fleshings, lime, Sto., for agricul
tural purposes was discussed, and "
her said he had used hair on grain and grass
with the moBt marked effect. He had spread
it thinly and harrowed in with spring wheat,
and produced the best crop he had over raised
cr cccu in the neighborhood. Upon grass its
effects had been very distinct and lasting.
Applied, upon the top of an unproductive dry
ridge of land it had produced a very luxuriant
growth, and without any other application,
the dark green oomplexiou of the sward had
aoaroely abated since 1847.
From Chambers' Journal.
THE PATRONESS.
On
of those densely foggy evenings
well known to the iuhabitants of
great
metropolis, when all who have comfortable
parlors or drawing-rooms will shut out the
unpleasant scene the windows present by
closely drawing the curtains, and ringing for
candles earlier than the wanted hour—when
the link-doys tAider the welcome auxiliary of
light to the foot-passenger who
trifling recompense, and
of doors who have not some very pressing
call—on such
afford a
will venture out
evening in the winter of 1835,
a young and delicate pedestrian might have
been
threading the maze formed by the
narrow streetB of Whitechapel, without com
panion or protector, and almost sinking
der the weight of a cumbersome parcel, which
bore the appearance of needlework, from one
of the warehouses with which that neighbor
hood abounds. Heç hurried and terrified
manner attracted no attention, each individual
being intent upon reaching his
and the darkness
ed her from the observation of the rude passer
by, who otherwise would have frequently
stared beneath her coarse straw-bonnet to gaze
upon a face of ttucommon beauty. Sho stopp
to relievo herself for a few mo
tire-side;
intense, that it shield
« :
ments from her heavy burden, by resting it
door-step ; and paused at every turn,
passing her ungloved hand
as if recalling to rememberance the spot
which sho stood. Her apprehensions lest she
had mistaken her way, redoubled when she
found herself in & place of which sho had
recollection ; and in a state of great excite
ment and alarm she
her fair brow,
ventured to enter a
chandler's shop, that she might make inquir
ies, for the street in which her home was situ
ated. Such a question from
poverty has set its unmistakable seal, is not
always answered with civility, especially when
it calls the shopkeeper,
from the snug parlor and blazing fire. Ruth
Annesley, however, met with a courteous re
ply from the kind-hearted widow to whom her
agitated appeal was addressed. She cheer
fully set about a minute and somewhat lengthy
explanation ; but to the terrifiod and almost
bewildered girl the frequent repetition of "third
turning to the right, second to the left," &c.,
was like the Jargon of
whom
& cold evening,
unknown tongue.
' You are a stranger in London?" the widow
observed, looking compassionately upon her.
Ruth replied in the affirmative, adding that
she lived with
aged relative, who
ously awaiting her return.
" Well, don't be frightened, my poor girl,"
she kindly rejoined ; "I'll promise you that
yon shall be at your
quarter of an hour, if you don't mind trust
ing yourself to the
steady and as good a lad as
bleBsed with," she pursued, perceiving that
her auditor started a little at the proposition ;
"so you need not be a bit afraid to put your
self under his protection ; and he knows the
way so well, that he could go blindfold, hav
ing trodden it every day, Sundays excepted,
for the last seven years. Then he will carry
your load for you, for you seem well-nigh
tired," she feelingly added, and she lifted a
stool from the other side of the counter as
door in less than a
. He is
of my
mother
she spoke.
I," was all Ruth
" You are very good,
could reply, as she sunk exhausted into tho
ofl'ered seat. Thehenovoleut widow now hur
ried into her little parlor, in which the young
alluded to was sitting, too much absorb
ed by tho persual of a book to hoar what had
been passing between his parent and her fair
companion. But no sooner was the communi
cation made, than he started upon his feet,
and taking his hat from his accustomed peg,
hastened to perform the part of & knight-or
rant to the distressed maiden. His precipi
tance was, however, checked by his good
mother, who suggested that on such a damp
evening, a greatcoat was necessary, tenderly
adding, that as he had suffered Beverly from
a cold last winter, it would be well for him to
wear her woollen shawl for a cravat. Andrew
Crawford submitted to these precautions with
something like impatience, but actually blush
ed for his appearance
ly-clad figure of the frail, delicate girl whom
he was about to esoort, and without uttering
a word, he tore the shawl from his throat and
wrapped it aronnd her shoulders. Struck by
by his
beholding the slight
this unlooked-for kindness,
frank and open countenance, Ruth
hesitatingly yielded her burden and herself to
his protection and guidance. During the
period occupied by the walk, the youth drew
from hiB gentle companion
of the events of her brief life. She.and a
well
artless recital
twin-brother, since dead, had, Bhe said, been
left orphans in infancy. Her father's relations
persons of property, but as they had re
fused to render them any pecuniary assistance,
they must have been brought up in a work
house, had not her mother's only surviving
kinsman—her grand-aunt—taken the charge
upon herself. " This dear relative," she add
ed, "worked for us when
work for ourselves, imparted to us all the
knowledge she possessed, and
every respect like a fond mother." She then
proceeded to state that fresh misfortunes had
since assailed them ; that her brother's long
illness had reduced them to a sad condition of
unable to
to
poverty ; and that her kind friend, now very
aged and infirm, had lately been bereft of
sight. This oircumstanee had induced them
to come from Sheffield to London, with the
hope that the best medical aid, there afforded
gratuitously, would effect a cure ; but this
hope had not been realized. She had, she
further said, whilst residing in the country,
gained some knowledge of the art of dress
making, but had not been able to turn it to
any account in London, because work in that
department of female labor
to bo obtained at home, and she would endure
any hardships rather than leave her aged and
afflicted relative; they were, consequently,
residing together in
not generally
humble lodging,
the little she could earn by making
living
shirts lor a neighboring outfitting warehouse.
"Have you, then, no other friend in this
great city ?" the young man interrogated, to
a tone which betrayed the deep interest he
had taken in her simple taie. ^
"I have no other friend on earth, she
made answer. "Now my brother is gone, I
have no one else to love, or to love me."
" Your's is a sad case,'.'he added commiser
atingly ; " but if you will call agaiu upon my
mother, she may be able to recommend you
to something better than your present
ploymont, which I fear is but ill paid for."
"It is, indeed," Ruth replied. "I labor
fifteen hours every day, frequently many
and aftor all, can scarcely provide the
mon necessaries of life. Yet," she quickly
rejoined, " I
this, for
thankful to get
London is a sad, unsocial, selfish place, and
should otherwise have died for Vaut."
"Though you have not bcon
to meet with them, London has many cha
fortunate
ritable peoplo in it, and is full of bonevolent
institutions," tho young man returned, a little
jealous for the credit of his native city. "Yet,"
he musingly added, "I know not of any insti.
tntion for tho encouragement of female in
dustry. But you will call
will you not ? I think she
you."
" Oh yes, I shall call on her to thank her
this night," the maid
with a joyful
recognized the little court which
my mother—
be of service to
for her goodness to
energetically exclaimed,
heart she
contained her home. " A thousand thanks,
too, for your kindness, sir," she hurriedly
added, returning the shawl, and taking the
parcel from his hands. "Good night;" and
as she spoke the last words, she bounded up
a flight of stone steps into a large but miser
able-looking house, which stood at the en
trance of the court.
A week elapsed ere the young seamstress
completed her task, and proceeded agaiu in
the direction of the abode of her now-found
friends. Her surprise was only exceeded by
her gratitude, on finding that the widow had
already interested a benevolent physician in
her behalf. This gentleman had engaged to
represent her unfortunate situation to some
ladies of his acquaintance, who he knew could
serve her by finding her bettor employment.
We will now, with the reader's permission,
shift the scene a little, and take a peep into
the richly ornamented drawing-room of Mrs.
Mapleton, a young lady of fashion, who had
recently become a bride. The mistress of the
mansion, arrayed in a elegant dishabille, was
reclining on one of the sofas. Her compan
her cousins, two ladies who had fill
ed the important office of bridemaids ; and a
more striking contrast could scarcely be
ceived thau the trio presented. Miss Belling
don, tho elder of the group, was a beautiful
young woman, of flve-and-twenty, who for the
last four years had been sole mistress of
immense fortune. Her bright black eye, and
clear brunette complexion, bespoke »character
of impassioned energy. Widely removed from
these two extremes
the gentle Celia How
ard. She possessed neither the insipid beau
ty of the
other, but her mild countenance bore the ex
pression of good sense and
though exciting less admiration,
more really attached friends.
Into this elegant scene a gentleman
trodueed. This was Dr. Penrose, the benev
olent-minded physician who had undertaken
to find some remunerative employment foe the
poor seamstress. Nor
His representations greatly affected the ladies;
and Miss Bellingdouat
articles of dress to make, which she
had in hand. " Come, doctor, you will es
in yonr carriage to the house of the
the animated charms of the
desty, which,
for hoi
in
ho unsuccessful.—
offerod to give her
cort
young needle-woman," gayly added tho fair
patroness.
" Gallantry forbids that I should disregard
such a request from a lady," the doctor re
turned with a smile ; and the fair heiress quitt
ed tho
to oquip herself for the visit.
" Adelaide is a spoiled child, and must al
ways have her own way," the bride remarked,
and while Miss Belliagdon was employed in
searching for the articles ho »poke of, Miss
Howard took the opportunity of slipping a
small donation into the hand:; of the doctor.
"Will you become my almouer, dear sir?"
she quietly said ; adding in a still lower key.
"permit me to caution you not to trust whol
ly to tho discretion of my cousin, Miss Bell
ingdon, with regard to the future movement?
of your interesting protegee. She is kindly
iutentioned, but is apt to imagine that more
bo effected by her patronage than exper
ience proves. It is painful to make these re
marks," she hurriedly observed ; " but I feel
it a duty to do so, lest your kind efforts to
I this young woman should be a source ot
evil instead of benefit."
The re-entrance of the young heiress pre
vented the physician's reply, but his counte
nance expressed all his lips would have uttered.
"Mrs. Mapleton is a subscriber to several
charitable institutions," Miss Bellingdon ob
served, addressing her venerable companion
as they entered the densely populated neigh
borhood in which the home of the young
situated; "and," sho pur
sued, " as sho has a great objection to any
thing like trouble, and fancies sho is too sen -
sitive to come in contact with distress of any
kind, she imagines that to be the most efficient
way of doing good. For my.own part," she
continued, " I like to find out worthy ob
jects for private charity, and really feel oblig
ed, Dr. Penrose, by your mentioning this
poor young creature to me."
" Each in its turn has a claim upon us, my
dear Miss Bellingdon," the doctor made
seamstress
Tho interest Dr. Penrose had e:tcited in the
breast of the fair heiress for Ruth Axnesley
rather augmented than decreased when that
young lady entered her lodging, notwithstand
ing that Bhe had to climb up threo flights of
dark and dirty stairs
gratified. There
ty which counterbalanced all difficulties, and
the very wretchedness of the abodfigaveit an
air of romance which highly delighted her.—
The little room occupied by the aunt and
niece was, however, far from partaking of the
oharacter of the other parts of the honse ; it
meanly furnished and ill-lighted, but
her curiosity was
to her & charm in novel
was
there was a certain something which bespoke
it the residence of minds of a Efup«ri«fr order
TERMS:
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day, at Two Dollar« a year, payable iu advance ; If
paid for till the end of the year Two Dollars and Fifty
Invariably be charged. No subscription will he
; received for les» thau six months, and no paper discontinu
ed uutil all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the
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Advertisements not exceeding a square will be Inserted
three times for one dollar. Twenty-live cents for every
subsequent insertion, bouger ont» in the same proportion.
or less constitute a square.
Single insertion 80 cents per square,
of 4 lines, single insortion, 28.
Twelve
The young needlewoia
most terrfied at tho sight ot
which was unrolled before her. bw
fideut in exorcising her skill on such
materials ; and though grateful for the offered
aid, would lain havo declined it, but her visi
tor would not hear of a refusal. She was
she said, from the excellent fit of her own
dress, simple as it was, that Rhe could accom
plish it to her satisfaction ; and she proceed
ed to make an appointment for the next morn
ing for her to take her pattern.
" We must transplant that sweet flower to
gonial soil, my good sir," MissBelling
don energetically exclaimod when they re
entered the carriage ; "she must not be al
lowed to wither away in this polluted atmos
phere. 1 have already formed a plan for her
future support. She must have a well fur
nished floor in the western suburbs, and
I'll venture to premise her plenty of employ
ment from ray friends alone."
" Your plan is good, my dear Miss Belling
don," the doctor returned; "but we must
not be too sanguine of success. If-"
"Oh, I will have no buts or ifs," the lady
interposed, " nor will 1 allow you to thwart
my schemes of benevolence by your prudent
precaution. 1 assure you that I can fully cal
culate upon success, aud Til take tho entire
responsibility upon myself."
"If you will do that, my fair friend, I can
make no further opposition," her companion
quietly rejoined.
The result of the above-related conversation
that Ruth and lier aunt wero removed
untied tad tl*
v Vfl elegant tissue
dl<
I
from the obscure garret they bad for the last
six months inhabited, to a comfortable lodg
ing in the neighborhood of Hyde Park. Miss
Belliugdon found no difficulty in persuading her
young protegee to make the exchange ; for,
trustful and guileless
for a moment doubted whether her patroness
would fulfil all her engagements. To her it
almost miraculous deliverance
she was, she never
appeared
from tho bitter want sho had experienced,
and her grateful heart beat high with
thankfulness to a merciful Providence Who
had directod her steps in the darkness
to tho abode of the widow, who had been
the primary human instrument in bring
ing about her present happiness. To her more
sage and experienced protectress, however,
the scheme did not appear quit
less sanguine thau Ruth of the
r undertaking, and doubtful of
a
desirable.
She
of her
the continuance of Miss Bellingdon's patron
too much of life to place
Tge. Sho had
implicit reliance in fluency of profession ; yet
as her uieco
full of hope and delight at
the proposal, and was, in their present cir
cumstances, wasting her youth by incessant
and ill-requited toil, she could not long with
hold her consent to tho change. Miss Bell
so enraptured with the manner in
ingdon
which Ruth had accomplished tho task she
than
had assigned her, that sho
ually energetic whilst appealing to her fair
friends in her behalf. Her affecting relation
of tho trials the young seamstiess had so re
cently endurëd drew tears from many a bright
eyo, and
heroine had not been many days
s supplied with
she
abode,
work than she knew how to perform.—
She thus found herself in such an awkward
in her
lilemma, that she was obliged to apply to
her patroness for counsel. "Oh yt
do it all, my dear ; you must not think of
such a thing as disobliging any of your em
ployers," was that lady's unhesitating rt j
rad vain were tlus poor girl's ivpi
that her health was sinking under
which was even greater than that she h'.i
3iado at her former occupation. ' You h.. •:
vet to learn," Miss Bellingdon pi
"that thoro is nothing about which a lady is
j 0 impatient as the fabrication of a new dre^s.
dho will bear the loss of a lover with a better
than a disappointment of that sort ; so
I tall you, my good girl, that you must get
them all done by the time specified by the
owners, or you will ruin yourself in the onset."
" Aud can these ladies be really desirous of
this employment?"
in giving
sawing
Ruth could uot help saying to herself ; but she
de a quest!
of her noble
dared not ask
ertion, accompaui
patroness. With great
ed by no small amount of bodily pai«, the
young needlewoman at length effected the
task ; but her trials were not over when this
accomplished. One of tho ladies who
keenly touched by Miss Belling
ion's affecting recital of her suflerings, rraJ
was, to use her own words, "quite ><>■
to patronize the poor young thin e Ù:
uot scruple to make a bargain by which
a considerable gainer, excusing her ava
rice by saying that she could not of course
pay a person whom she employed under such
jiroumstances the same
fashionable milliners ; another thought it an
ir-. ■ î ■
who
of tho
she did
excellent opportunity of getting credit, which
had been refused by her late modiste ; a third,
supposing the obligation she conferred
Ruth by employing her entitled her to dictate
oven in her domestic affairs, withdrew her
patronage on the plea of her base ingratitude,
because the poor girl did not think proper to
follow her advice in everything ; and a fourth
—a dashing widow, whom Miss Bellingdon
had represented as a very paragon of benevo
lence—having a favorite notion that the work
ing-classes are incapable of husbanding their
earnings, doled out her payments iu such
small sums, and took up so much time in calls
at her mansion iu order to receive these
s literally twice earned
who w
that tho money
it reached the hands of the pe
to be employed by her. To
added several ladies who were real
so unfortunate
these
ly desirous of serving her, but who engrossed
much of her attention and time—-the young
needlewoman's only property—by trivial
marks and minute directions, that little pro
fit could be derived from the work they put
into her hands. This latter evil arose from
inconsiderateness, not wilful injustice, but it
Thus,
not the lass felt on that account.
lack of occupation,
had
though ourliertfi
not so auyfly remunerated as she had
been led to expect, s» Q( * s ^ e
ly distressed for the nW>aus for providing the
necessaries of life. The lodgings Miss Bell
ingdon had engaged for thet*"
sivo ; and notwithstanding th£ promise that
lady had made to Dr. Penrose, *t»d that she
than onco Intimated to Buth her
self,-that she would take the entire responsibil
ity, she never afterwards alluded to the subject.
The interest which had been exoited for
Ruth did not flag through the winter months.
Many »beautiful lip spoke with seeming sym
pathy of the fair young seamstress who bid
fabricated the dress or mantle in which the
lovely drearer was arrayed, and they doubt
ihe
still frequent
expen
nso
had