Whole No. 2640. For the Gaztttc. BENHAMED, the FISHERMAN, OR THE The Robison Crusoe of the Juniata. BY IIL'RKT.L RDILLI)ARR£LL. Dear reader, are you prepared to listen to a tale of wild adventure and hair-breadth escapes? If so, 'retain your linen' and give I me your attention. The thrilling incident 1 I am about to relate, though clad in the j habiliment of romance and garbed in the I guise of fiction, is nevertheless true. The scene is laid in the lovely valley of j the Juniata, and upon the bosom of the beautiful river of that name. It is not my intention at present to bring before you scenes of the days of Alfarata, of years long g°'ie, when that charming Indian maiden was supposed to have roamed along the margin of this magnificent stream, in all her ' unsophisticated' loveliness ; when Logan's wild shout rung up the valley, ech oing and vibrating thro tglt the mountain gorges of the giant bills that overlook the liver; nor of the times when the red man s drum was hoard summoning the war riors to the war dance, and other amuse ments peculiar to the aborigines, in the days when the Indian was lord of the soil, when he trod the banks of this river in all his savage and barbaric pride. My story is one of the present century. Just three years ago. The present how changed from former years : 4 riie roiee of Alfaratn anl l*r r'l warriors brave, Art? JoruviT j gwaanssmiaiß) ircr jm"ffsnsj®ai£ 8 asmswE-myg mffirassj ®®wsnnr 8 earth like the tread of an army of giants. The large rain drops begin to fall; the wind rises, the storm king is abroad, and so is Benhamed. The waves are lashed to fury. Benhamed sees the great danger he is in, is horror-struck, and holds on to his frail bark with a deathlike grip while the gale increases. He seizes the oars, but how can human strength cope with all the elements combined. He hears the rumbling of the dam at the two locks, thinks his case is a hopeless one, and in the frenzy of despair clutches at every passing object. He cries lor assistance, but no answering shout is heard. His garments are saturated with rain; he is about giving himself up to his fate; he falls on his knees in the bottom ol the boat, not to pray, but to see if his stom ach bitters are safe. He finds the bottle, and determines to die, if die he must, with his 'five sings.' He raises his head, looks around him in every direction for succor, until his eye catches a glimpse cf the small island at the mouth of Jack's creek. Hope is again enkindled in his bosom; he springs to the oar and sculls vigorously for the is land. If he can but reach it in time—he is nearing it—but, great God ! the mad waters are bearing him past this, his only hope of escape. Black despair is again settling upon his brow, but he resolves to make one more effort before resigning him sell to his fate, lie leans over on the edge of the skiff as it flies past, arid with a gl ut's grasp seizes a small root that is dan cing upon the waters, attached to some shrubbery on the island, and pulls himself and boat ashore. Down on his knees again, he f icozes on to bis bottle of the essence of mania a pom, elevates his face to the still darkened heavens, und—takes a drink; un grateful man ; he should have returned thanks for his deliverance from a watery grave. Rut his trouble was not yet at an end ; here 110 was 011 an uninhabited island with out a copper in his pocket, and his boat was not strong enough to attempt to reach the mainland in the then troubled state of the elements. What could lie do? To cry for assistance would be useless. He sat himself down bemoaning his sad fate. As he sat thinking, he felt a drowsiness come over him that he could not by any means shake off. He was going to the Imd of Nod, and lie could not help it. The bottle, falls from bis band. lie rolls off -he stone on which lie bad been sitting Ben haine'l sleeps—sleeps on that lone island, heedless of the chilling wind, the blinding I rain, the vivid fl .sites of lightning, the thunder's deep diapason, the roaring of tl.e waves, and ail the excitement < fa terriile storm ; yes, he sleeps, not that balmy sleep that is usually the reward of tired nature. It was a dreamy, drunken snooze. But look, he smiles in his sleep; Benhamed is dreaming, dreaming of his home in fl e land of * Switzer Kase and Lager ' of the many happy scenes of his boyhood days away in 'old Berks,' of the times when he tramped over the hills and plains of' Tul pehockcn,' when with a card of ginger bread under his arm he made his way, hand in hand with the maid of his: heart, to the fair at Kutztown. But now a change comes over the spirit of his dream. That beauti ful smile disappears, a cloud darkens his brow. Now he dreams of ' sundry acci dents by flood and field,' of hair-brcadth escapes from the ' imninent deadly' storm, of his being shipwrecked and cast away on the identical island on which ' Bobinson Crusoe' lived. But Benhamed, unlike 4 Bob Crusoe,' was not blessed with the presence of a man Friday to cheer his lone ly hours. Thus he lay dreaming, he knew not how long. When he awoke, 'Old Sol' was pouring down upon him his most scorching rays. The waters of the Juniata were as placid as when he embarked that morning, so full of hope and whiskey, to lure the little fishes from their watery home. His first impulse after awakening, was to reach for his bottle of ' five sings,' and as he reached he cast his eyes to the spot where he had moored his boat from the storm. But oh, what a look of horror and despair encircled that classic brow, when he saw that his boat was missing—his only hope of safety torn from him. With his bottle in one hand and hat in the other he marches to and fro over the island, hurling imprecations dire on the malicious fiend that had stolen his ' bonny boat.' Would he succumb to his fata? No, while there is life there is hope, so Benhamed conclu ded to drown sorrow by a draught from 'de bottle dat's black, dat lay massa blue devil flat on his back.' But here the ' unkind est cut of all,' not a drop of ' boomerang' remained in that bottle. What mortal could stand the blow. But, methinks, we hear you say, cheer up Benhamed; there is a clear running river flowing at your feet (Heaven's draught that never slaught ers) drink and let your soul revive. No, my friends, you are mistaken in your man. Benhamed's ' internal improvements' had not known for many years the blessings of cold water; it would do well enough in his estimation, for navigation and ' sich like,' but as a beverage he did not approve of it. It would astonish his stomach ! Well, Benhamed did give up and sat him self down again to reflect over his misspent life. There he sat until the gnawings of hunger awakened him to a sense of his des perate situation, ne sprang to his feet and gazed wildly around bim : on one side WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1861. was the dark mountains whose huge boul ders and tall pines seemed to look with scorn upon the poor fisherman. There was the deep, dismal gorge or gap, named after Mrs. Bixler, the witch woman who once bad her abode there, and whose wierd laugh was ofti n heard in concert with the ear piercing cry of the wolf and panther. On the other side a mile or more distant lay the beautiful village of L n with here and there a farm house He heard the distant crowing of chanticleer in the barn yard, the ' lowing of the herd as they were winding o'er the lea.' lie screamed and yelled, but in vain; 110 ear heard, no eye saw him. As if to mock at his hunger the fish would leap from the water and laush at him. The snapping turtles would rise to the surface, cast a withering glance, and disappear; they knew he was their mortal enemy. It was more than flesh and blood could bear; he was becoming mad; hunger, thirst, and fatigue were making fearful in roads upon his reason. His 'squintor' was protruding from its socket. He had a wild light in his good eye that made him indeed an object of pity. But stop, an idea struck him : he bethinks of another expedient.— Benhamed had heard of castaway mariners raising their underclothing as signals of distress, and he determined to do likewise; so he doffs his crimson hued shirt, a gar ment that the fair hands of his charming inamorati had bejeweled with oriental splen dors, lashes it to a bush, arid awaits an an swer to his emblem of distress. The shades of night were closing around him. The frogs all along the margin of the river were singing their evening songs; the whippoorwill flew above his head utteringits queer, quaint noise. There was however no music in it for him ; he was not to be ' moved by a concord of sweet sounds.'— But he starts: S'dcath, he hears the dis tant dipping of oars. He stretches his obese form to its full height, strains his eye to its utmost tension—(even the de cayed optic seems to have regained its sight—the green patch assumes a horizon tal position : in the dim distance lie per ceives a dark object. It is getting nearer and more distinct ; glorious sight, it is a boat, and in it a dusky form. He seizes his flag, waves it above bis bead, and in clear, wild accents, cries for deliverance. The 'dark gondolier' hears him, and pulls for the island. The boat bad scarcely touched the sand wh -in Benhamed and his bottle were aboard. He dropped the bot tle, embraced his deliverer, and told him for the love of heaven to pull for the shore, lie then ' catterpiilered,' or swooned away, perfectly overcome with joy. The proprie tor of the boat proved to bo a dusky de scendant of Ham, who lived a few miles down the river, ami was on his return to his old cabin ho.ne to Dinah and the 1 ic aninics. lie landed Benhamed safely on the tow path of the canal, and after anoth er embrace the rescued and rescuer part forever. Benhamed had no leathern purse, filled with doubloons, to offer his preserver, but he said lie would give him a first rate drink of ' fivo sin s' if he had it. The 'sable mantle of night hung o'er the scene black as the dunnest smoke of Hades,' when this destitute, mud bespattered, rnin drcnclied fisherman started on bis winding way for home, which placed he reached just as the 'bawdy hand of the dial was on the point of ten.' Dear reader, little more remains to be told. Benhamed never followed the life of a fisherman afterwards, lie lived about two years after the occurrence of the events narrated in the preceding tale, and then 'shuffled off his mortal coil,' a victim of bad rum. The ' Daring Turtle Catcher of the Juniata,' is no more. May the turf rest lightly upon him. Notes of A Voyage to Hayti. PORT AU PRINCE, Oct 11, 1861 Messrs Editors:—Hoping a line from me might be acceptable to your readers, 1 seat myself to pen you a few lines. We set sail from New York on Sept. sth. We had a pleasant breeze and all went well for a few days, when a dead calm set in which lasted eleven days. We drifted 300 miles out of our course; consequently our voyage was extended to five weeks instead of three. Nothing worthy of note occurred on our passage except the death of a child. On the 17th it was attacked with croup and sea-sickness, and at midnight it breathed its last. On the 18th, I witnessed for the first time a burial at sea. It was at sunset, the sea was perfectly calm—not a ripple on its glassy surface. On the deck stood eighty-nine of the noblest specimens of the Anglo-African, with saddened and subdued countenances, forming a scene that would have done credit to an artist's pencil, and been admired anywhere except in republi can America. The clergyman repeated the burial service, and as the body was com mitted to the great deep, not a sound could be heard except his impressive voice ; even the mourners ceased their sobs, so deeply were they impressed with the scene. For my part I never wish to witness another of the same kind. Sabbath, Sept. 29th, we anchored off Turk's Island. At two o'clock about twen ty-five of us repaired to the island. We were taken in a small sail-boat, and were received very kindly by the natives who invited us into their dwellings, and regaled u with Cucoa nuts, and other tropical fruits. I was very much struck at first with the singularity of the houses. They were large frame dwellings, some of them quite eie gnnt, without windows or chimneys. They have lattice blinds but no windows. We visited the President's house, and found it a commodious building, commanding a fine view of the sea, and surrounded by manilla, date, cocoa, palm and pine trees. Flam ingoes and other birds which we had seen only in menageries were walking about perfectly domesticated. We repaired to the beach, gathered some beautiful shells, and then visited the chapel, where wc heard the American Consul deliver his farewell address. About half past eight we started for our brig. Standing on the beach, we gave twice three cheers for Turk's Island and its inhabitants. Upon reaching our vessel we sought our berths, and were soon wrap ped in the arms of Morpheus. On the 6th inst., we entered the bay of St. Marc. I assure you 1 was rejoiced to see the Queen of the Antilles, and so were all on board. As the pilot came up we proposed three cheers for the Island of llayti, and twice three for our President, for here you know we are blaek Republicans literally. The cheers were given with a hearty good will, and then one of the clergymen knelt and offered a prayer of thanksgiving for our safe arrival. 1 cannot express the thoughts that crowded thick and fast upon my mind as I viewed our beautiful Island home. Suf fice it to say, I was truly grateful that God had given us a home where ' none dare molest us or make us afraid.' We found St. Marc a very pleasant village of about one thousand and five hundred inhabitants.— I visited the market and was very much pleased as well as surprised at the abun dance of everything which I had been in formed could not be procured in Hayti.— I found the market stocked with eggs, but ter, cheese, &c , vegetables of every de scription, fruits of every clime, and birds of different plumage. I visited the emi grants, and found them pleasantly domes ticated in cozy little houses, every family by itself. I bade adieu to St., Marc on the Bth. On the 20th I arrived here, the capital of the black republic. Thus far I like it very much. The natives all speak French, and the higher classes appear to be very refined and intelligent. The lower classes are rather degraded, as they arc in all Catho lic countries ; besides having a country in which, if tlicy choose, they can live out of doors all the year round, they have no in centive to labor. But ]am wearying you with my long letter, I think I will stop, as the clock is strieking twelve, and I shall soon intrude 011 the "wee small lioura." — In my next I will write of the emigrants here and at Dwillard, and give a particu lar description of I'urt au Prince. YOURS TRULY, ONE DA E. PAULDING. Words Rightly Spoken at a Momentous Time. Shortly after Abraham Lincoln assumed the duties of President of the United States, while traitors infested the National Capital, and the gloom of rebellion was fast thickening over the face of the country, he was visited by several Governors of as many States, among whom was the chosen son of Pennsylvania, Andrew G. Curtin. The President was contemplating how to act. He seemed to be self-willed, and had the nerve, but something like a doubt lin gered in his mind, lie paced the floor in a meditative mood sone time, and said but little. There was a solemnity in the crowd of intelligent men and statesmen around him, that indicated deep, thougliful con templation. Each of the limited party present had already expressed his views upon the im portance of the occasion. The whole ma chinery of the Government was in bad or der, and in the several departments there were traitors still clogging the wheels. An unbidden tear started down the oheek of the patriot President, but he nerved him self for the work before him. The temple of liberty was tottering indeed; column after co umn was falling. His mission was the arduous one of rebuilding it. The President seated himself in a chair, once adorned by Washington, the Father of his Country, when all at once he sprang to his feet, and exclaimed : ' Gentlemen, the Unien and the Constitution must be saved. I have been contemplating whether the States will respond to my proclamation, if I issue it now. Governor Curtin, wlat will Pennsylvania do?' Gov. Curtin, who was standing looking out of a window, turned and confronted the President and replied, ' What will Pennsylvania do? Why sir, she'll furnish a hundred thousand wen in a week, if it he necessary .' This noble and prompt reply of the favored son of the blue mountains of the Keystone State clinched the nail. — They were the right words spoken at a momentous time. The eye of the Spring field statesman grew brighter, his tall man ly form stood more erect, and shaking hands with the Governor, said, ' Those words en courage me, they take all doubt from my mind, they ease my heart of a heavy weight, my proclamation shall issue to-morrow.' Joy beamed as brightly in that congre gation of intelligent men, as the sun ever did, after a gloomy day. The proclamation was issued, and when the unseen electric spark sped the announce ment to all parts of the country, a couple of companies fron the interior of the State of Pennsylvania responded, and forthwith they arrived at the Capital of the Nation. Pennsylvania was first in the field, almcst before the ink was dry in the proclamation ; and the glorious old State has now more men, good, solid, noble, truehcartcd patri otic men in the American Army than any other Ssate in the Union, aud has a few more of the same sort left. But for the reply of Gov. Curtin.orhad he hesitated for a single moment, the issu ing of the proclamation would have been delayed at a time when weeks were months and months were years. Pennsylvania had her hundred thousand men ready by the time the National Government wanted them, and thus the words of our own active, patriotic, and prophetic Governor have been well fulfilled to the very letter. He may be truly considered the ' hero of the rear.' Impartial history will give praise to Gov. Curtin. His name will be as familiar as household words among ail patriotic, Union loving people, long after the names of the few miserable wretches who are so steeped in prejudice, and so lost to all feeling of virtue, respect, and manliness as to calum niate him, shall have rotted vith their car cases in the grave of deep and blank obliv ion. His name is a tower of strength, and will increase in power as time progresses. Selfishness is not in his vocabulary. He stands this day in the wild sea of puhlic opinion, like a proud, defiant rock in mid ocean, around and against which the leaves are expected to lash, but to go back into calm water again, without doing any harm. His noble reply to President. Lincoln, when men of iron nerve were wanted, is a stamp of the true character of the map. It was the musical ring of the true metal, the joy ous tone of victory at the beginning, and the death-knell of thieving usurpations and foul rebellion. The Official Report of Col. Brown. Col. llarvey Brown has made the following official report of the late fight: HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF FLORIDA, ) FORT PICKENS, NOV 25, 18G1. GENERAL: That Fort Pickens has been be leaguered by the rebels for the last nine months, and that it was daily threatened with the fate of Sumter, is a fact notorious to the whole world. Since its occupancy by Lieut. Slemmer, the rebels have been surrounding it with batteries, and daily arming them with the heaviest and most efficient guns known to our service-guns stolen from the United States —until they considered this fort as virtual ly their own, its occupancy being only a ques tion of time. I have been in command since the 10th of April, and during the whole of that time their force has averaged, so far as I can learn, from eight to ten times the number of mine. The position in which I have thus been placed has been sufficiently trying, andl have at three separate times intended to free myself from it by opening my batteries on them, but imper ious circumstances, over which I had no con trol, have unexpectedly in each instance pro vented. Affairs were in this state on the morning of the 9th of October, when the enemy fifteen | hundred strong, attacked by surprise a por tion of my command on an intensely dark night. They were defeated and driven from the island with great loss by less than two hundred regulars and fifty volunteers—all the efficient force I had disposable for the purpose. An insult so gross to the flag of my ccuntry could not by me be passed unnoticed, and I designed immediately to take appropriate no tice of it; but, as I said before, circumstances over which I had no control prevented. I make these prefatory remarks to explain why I have now opened my batteries on the ene my, when, from the smallness of my forces, about one sixth of his, thirteen hundred to eight thousand. I have not the means of pro ducing any decisive results, and as evidence of my having accomplished what I designed, the punishing the perpetrators of an insult on my country's flag. Having invited Flag Officer McKean to co operate with me in attacking the rebels, and to which he gave a ready and cordial assent, I, on the morning of the 22d, opened my bat teries on the enemy, to which, in the course of half an hour, he responded from his numer ous forts and batteries extending from the navy yard to Fort Mcßae, a distance of about four miles, the whole nearly equi distant from this fort, and on which line ho has two forts (Mcßae and Barrancas) and fourteen separate batteries, containing from one to four guns, many of them being ten inch columbiads, and some twelve and thirteen inch sea coast mor tars, the distance varying from two thousand one hundred to two thousand nine hundred yards from the fort. At the same time of my opening, Flag Officer McKean, in the Niagara, and Captain Ellison, in the Richmond, took position as near to Fort Mcßae as the depth of water would permit, but which unfortu nately was not sufficiently deep to give full effect to their powerful batteries. They, how ever, kept up a spirited fire on the fort and adjacent batteries during the whole day.— My fire was incessant from the time of open ing until it was too dark to see, at the rate of a shot for each gun every 15 or 20 minutes, the fire of the enemy being somewhat slow er. By noon the guns of Fort Mcßae were all silenced but one, and three hours before sunset this fort and tho adjoining battery ceased fire. I directed the guns of Batteries Lincoln, Cameron, and Totten principally on the batteries adjacent to the navy yard, those of Battery Scott to Fort Mcßae and the light house batteries, and those of the fort to all. We reduced very perceptibly the fire of Bar rancas, entirely silenced that in the navy yard, and in one or two of the other batteries the efficiency of our fire, at the close of the day, not being the least impaired. New Series—Vol. XVI, No. 9. The nest morning I again open