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WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1845.
A BLACTIFCL Posar.—The following lines werecem
wad a ndr,cited by FRANC.B J. CROStT, one of in
mates of the New York institution for the Blind, at the
Broadway Tabernacle, on the occasion of an anniversa
ry. The recital of this power," says one who, heard
it," in the clear, sweet voice of the beautiful though
sightlesswho composed it, sounded like the sweet
tone of a bell, in the death -like stillness that reigned
,„ ‘: , a d, drew tears from the eyes of every listener.
Twasindeed a beautiful and interesting sight, when
the sun, glanced out from behind a cloud, and sent down
his declining rays
.upon that spell-hound audience; to
see them with their features 'beaming with sympathy,
and their eyes streaming with tears—their attitude be
traying the most intense anxiety to catch every word
that fell from her Bpi. She concluded, and was lead to
her seat amid thundeiing applause, repeated and repeai
,,lagam."
Hos' lonely and'sad is the sightless one's lot,
Who dwells in seclusion, neglected, forgot,
ropitied, uncherished, no gentle one near
To moisten her cheek with sweet sympathies tear !
While fond heat is around her beat lightly and gay,
In silent dejection her hours drag away ;
Tho' the blithe notes of gladness oft burst on her ear,
They come not her grief stricken bosom to cheer !
Or if. when the curtain of midnight is drawn,
And the fair tints of evening are faded and gone,
A aszther bends o'er her—;she bends but to weep—
And adds to heranguish 'a pang yet more deep.
And must she still linger thus shrouded in
Not one ray of sight her dark path to illume ?
Oh, no! that lone heart, all benighted and dresr,
The light of instruction bath power to cheer.
Bright visions of happiness float o'er her now,
.And the deep weeds of sorrow have fled from her brow ;
A smile of contentment now plays on her face—
For the pages of science her angers can trace.
Your eyes with transporting emotions can view
The calm evening sky inlits mantle of blue—
She mentally traces everyl i orb as it flies
In its course thro' the boundless expanse of the skies.
1
She treads, with new vigpr, each woodland and glen;
'Where Oft to brood over her woes she bath been—
Wh le, by her fingers, the harp, soft and clear,
Withinusical sweetnessl now gladdens her ear.
Theo think not unhappy—tho' sightless—this band—
Deplore not their lot !—A magnificent hand .
With blessings the choicest, our pathway hay strewn !
Neglected, unheeded nOonger we roam ! •
Kind friends are around: us--they soften our woe•,
And_point to the source!whence pure happiness flows
We taste the delights 'education has given,
And look from this world to a brighter in Heaven!
No TIME TO REAn.-1-We commend the following to
those who make the plea that they have no time to read.
" How often do we hear men excuse themselves from
subscribing to a paper or periodical;by saying they have
no time to read." When we heara man thus ex
cuse himself, we corielade he has never found time to
confer any substantial advantage, either upon his family,
his -country, or himself? To hear a freeman thud ex
press himself; is truly humiliating ; and we can form no
other opinion, than that such a man is of little impor
tsnee to society. Such men generally have time to at
tend public barbacoes,:meetings, sales, and other meet
ing.. but they have " no time to read."
They frequently spend whole days in gos-sipping, tip ,
ping, and swapping horses, but they have " no time to
wad." They sometimes lose a day in asking advice of
their neighbors—sometimes a day in picking up news,
the prices current and the exchanges—but these men
never have "anytime to read." They have time to
hunt, to fish, to fiddle; to drink, to "do nothing," but
" nounie to read ;" such men generally have unednea
ted children, unimproVed farms and unhappy firesides.
They have no energyi no spirit of improvement, no love
of knowledge ; they live unknowing and unknown," and
often die unwept and:unregretted."
- The Last Revolutionary.
BE' JESSE E. TOW
Oh! where are they—those iron men,
Who braved the battle's storm of fire,
Wheriwar's wild halo filled the glen,
And lit each humble village spire?
When hill sent back the sound to hilt,
And might was right; and law was will ?
Oh! where are they whose manly breasts
Beat back thq pride of England's might;
Whose stalwart, arms laid low the crests
Of many an old and valiant knight?
When evening came with murderous flame,
And Liberty was but a name.
I see them in the distance form,
Like seeptrei on the misty shore ;
Before them rolls the dreadful storm,
And hills send forth their rills of gore;
Around them death withilightning breath,
Is twining an immortal wreath.
Tis evening-and the setting sun,
sinks slowly down beneath the wave r
And there I see a gray-haired- one—
A special courier to the grave ;
He look around on sale and mound
And fills upon his battle ground.
Beneath. him steeps the hallowed earth.
Now chilled like him, and still and cold—
The blood Limit gave young Freedom birth
No lengeirvarms the warrior old—
Ae waves hisihand with stern command,
Then dies thei last of glory's band.
Love and Lightning.
A lady who her love had sold,
Ask'd if a reason could be told •
Why wedding rings were made of gold!
I ventured thus t' instruct - her;
Love, Ma'ani, and lightning art the same— ,
On earth Mei glauee,-.fiem Heaven they cable
Love is the tiours electric name,
And OoLoits!bestcoanucroa;
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_
PITTIONIZT. torn owls Mrettssics.—The best pro•
teCtion to Industry. is to patronize your own Mechanics.
The Fredericihurg Recorder, has the following remarks._
which apply with some force in this latitude.
" It may be economy to pay ten per cent more for the
products of native skill and labor, than the same articles
might be biatiht for from other hands. Of course ev
ery one has a right to buy where and how he pleases—
a
right of which he ought not to be deprived, in a limit
ed domestic sense, any more than in the larger view of '
national policy—yet he ought to sec the advantage of
having prosperous neighbors, and contribute what he
can consistently with his own interests, to benefit them,
instead of others who can make no return. It we sup.
port our mechanics as we may, they in return will sup
port us, and by this double process, the town itself will
receive an impetus, which in a few years, would materi
ally improve its aspect. The proper course is to buy
what we can at home : the result would be seen in the
more cheerful visages of our laboring population, and in
the springing up of many neat and comfortable cottages
in the now waste places of our borough. Then a re
action would commence, and'those who chiefly con-.
tributed to this result, would reap a full recompense for
any sacrifice they might have mode to produce it."
Why has thou lured me on fond muse, to quit
The'path of plain dull worldly sense, and be
A wanderer thro' the realms of thought with thee ;
While hearts that never knew thy visitings sweet,
Cold souls that mock thy qtiiet Melancholy,
Win their bright way up. Fortune's glittering wheel;
And we sit lingering here in darkness still,
Scorned by the bustling sons of wealth and folly.
Yet still thou whisperest in mine ear "the day,
The day may be at hand when thou and 1,,
(The season of expectant pain gone by,)
Shall tread to Joy's bright porch a smiling way,
And rising, not as once, with hurried wing,
To purer skies aspire, and hail a lovelier spring."
The Tragedy of the Caldwell Family.
"The voice of noble blood,
Poured out for faith and freedom, hath a tone
Which, from the night of ages, shall burst forth
And make its high appeal to Heaven."
During the Revolutionary war, the pleasant
village of Elizabeth, in New Jersey, was the
theatre of mapy interesting scenes. The in
habitants readily took up arms re defence of
their independence, and cheerfully sacrificed
property and comfort at their country's call,—
Their distinguished patriotism was imputed.
in a great measure to one, whose person and
character was venerated by every member of
the community. This person was the Rev.
Jamei Caldwell. whose memory is almost idol
ized by the very few witnesses of the war still
living in Elizabeth.
Until the commencement of the war, he had
lived the faithful pastor of a simple and virtuous
flock in E., probably never once dreaming that
his name would he known "to story or to .
song " in a succeeding age.
His appearance was interesting; his coun
tenance, when in repose, somewhat pensive,
yet, at times, they was a sudden lighting up
of his eye, and earnest and nnpassioned tone
of the voice, and a strong and thrilling elo
quence of language which might have induced
an acute observer 'to suppose that there was a
latent feeling in his breast; which only need
ed some exciting cause to draw it forth, and
which, when developed. would render its pos
sessor, hitherto so mild and gentle, like the
irresistible whirlwind, or the impetuous cata
ract.
The residence' of this good man and his
kids - faintly yet remains in E., unaltered,
t.ave by the effects of time, which has thatch-.
ed its roof with moss. and increased the growth
of the numerous shrubs and vines, which ever
in rich profusion adorn its sides. The house
is quite unique in appearance, with 'its old
fashioned porch in front, and at the side its
small casement windows, and its doors with
heavy iron knockers, disproportionately
It stands in the'rnifist of an extensive unenclos-, 1
ed green lawn, which it was the pride of the
pastor to keep in order, and was quite unmark
ed by any vagrant footstep, there being two
narrow paths leafing to the entrances we have
spoken of. The most ancient and majestic
walnut, elm, and sycamore trees still shade the
house. An extensive green meadow finishes
the back ground, while the garden lies at the
side, of which there is a pretty view from the
south porch. The garden was the delight of
the pastor and his family, and the .admiration
of all his congregation. I have been told that
it was an unusual thing not to see one of them
there employed— -
"Stopping to support
Each flower of tender stalk."
This was more peculiarly the province ,of
the I.ltlest daughter, 'Margaret, between the.l
ages of fourteen and fifteen, who was singular
ly
beautiful.
The wife of Mr. Caldwell, (Hannah Ogden
of Newark) gentle, lovely, and engaging as
she was noble, elevated, and excellent, pos
sessed the affections of all, particularly of those
who constituted her husband's pastoral care.
Her manners and feeling were refined ; her
principles firm - ; and her mind more carefully
cultivated than those of the generality of le.;
males in her day.
Thus the commencement of our troubles
found them, dwelling amidst a home, bright
with sunshine and with love, knowing no sor
row but their country's wrongs, which; they
' felt most keenly, was crushed and oppressed
by thePpower which should have afforded them
strength and protection.
At that solemn juncture few were ' hard?
enough even to breathe: the word INDEPEN
DENCE ; but our noble pastor, who had calmly
and philosophically, as well as feelingly; pon
dered on our situation, saw that it was our on
ly resource, and he dared to speak it even at
the risk of sharing a traitor's fate. Confident
in the justice of his -cans'': firmly relying an
the God of the oppresscd,•he felt that the time
PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. S: GOODRICH & SON.
Fame.
A TALE. OF THE REVOLITTIOD:
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
had now come when a great and mighty task
incited him
"To endure,
And to keep•watch, and arouse a land,
And to defend and altar." •
We will now miruduce the reader to a hum
ble mansion in a small village, f our m il es from
Elizabeth, to which Mr. Caldwell had remov
ed his family in consequence oFthe freqvent
incualons of the British from Staten Island,
lying directly opposite to Elizabeth, of which
they possessed themselves; thus keeping the
neighborhood 'and- village in a constant state of
alarm, lie himself remained with the army,
using all that eloquence with which he was so
richly gifted, in instilling the American troops
with courage and confidence iii the ultimate
success of their cause. When suffering with
hunger; half clothed and weary, a powerful
enemy at hand, and no prospect of human re
lief, his burning words would ever renew their
fainting courage, quicken their faith in the
Redeemer of the oppressed, and cause the
shout of " Liberty or Death " to be heard from
every hp.
Thiikthoug,h warring not with carnal wea
pons, the commander of the American army
felt that in they had a host, whilst among
the invaders he was feared and execrated as
the means of keeping alive that rebellion which.
at the commencement of the war, they thought
it would be no difficult matter to crush and ex
terminate. The morning that we speak of,
the British forces were landing at Elizabeth
with the design of giving battle to Ge. Wash"
ington, who, with his army, lay encamped 'at
Morristown, • Mr. Caldwell was about depart
ing in a company of soldiers, to join it.
An usual paleness rested on the cheeks of
his devoted wife, as her husband pressed her
to his bosom. She had struggled to preserve
her composure. but her eyes rested upon her
children, in their innocence and loveliness,
and teats in quick succession rolled down his
cheeks.
Alas I alas I" she exclaimed, " I cannot
account fur these sad feelings that oppress and
weigh down my spirits this morning; but they
do betoken some impending evil. Who can
tell but you!. my husband, may this day be a
victim to your patriotism? The refugee hates.
and the Briton dreads you. Oh ! should their
dark plans succeed, who will comforenae ?
Who will protect our helpless In bes, and sbield
our beautiful Margaret?"
" Do not give way to such feelings my Han-
nah ?" answered her husband. '• put your trust
in God who regards us with a watchful-eye,
and who will eventually deliver us. This day
of darkness will not last forever; even now
the clouds are rolling away, and soon in our
own quiet home we shall again enjoy 1 411 the
sweet peace we used to know before the
foe invaded our land—av, " and far more
my love," he added, as his dark eye flashed
with a patriot's fire, " for we shall-then be
free. I shall return tomorrow evening, with
the blessing of God, to tell you bow the ene
my had been defeated, and to spend a few hap
py days."
Soon after his departure. the British forces
commenced, their march through the village.
Mrs. Caldwell shrunk from the sight, and
found it indeed a difficult task to be obliged to
expose herself to the view of her country's
enemies; yet had she done otherwise, she
knew the hotise would be levelled with the
ground, under the plea of its containing rebels
to his Majesty. Still they passed onward,
while she often saw her place of refuge pointed
at with menacing looks, while the name of her
husband was murmured with oaths and impre
cations.
-" Mother ! mother !" said Margaret, who,
although shielded from observation heard their
expressions as they passed along. " I cannot
hear this, and not hate these men, although my
fattier warns me of the wickedness of doing so.
%\ hat has he, so kind. so good, so amiable.
so benevolent, what has he done to deserve
tt ?"
Ile has done nothing, my child," replied
the agitated mother. "but endeavored to arouse
a scorned and trampled people to cast aside
shackles too grievous to .be borne; and oh,
.Margaret, though 1 do not hate them, yet,
when 1 hear my noble husband cursed and
execrated, my heart rises as it should not.—
Let me retire to implore forgiveness for this
sin, and, like my Divine Master, pray for bles
sings on the heads of those who hate and per
secute ns."
Thus saying, she left the room. Upon 'her
return, Margaret perceived that the voice of
peace had calmed her soul. She had been
communing with the Deity, and the effect of
that interview was yet visible upon her coun
tenance. Mete preparation for the dread hour
approaching ! The maid entered with the in.-
fant to receive its maternal nourishment, she
took it in her'arms to perform this interesting
ofliceati ! how little did she suppose fur the
last time ? Having returned the unconscious
infant° to its nurse's arms, she was in the act
'of're-adjusting her handkerchief, when the ball
from the musket`of a british soldier, who had
caught a glimpse of her person through the
window, pierced her. bosom, and the blorid of
the martyr, mingling with the milk cf the 'ne
ther, poured itself forth, in - a united stream
,at
the feet of the afrighted nurse. Her screams
brought the terrified Margaret from the next
room, tOtehuld her - mother gasping in . death,
and to hear her lips otter, " Forgive them, Fa
ther! my Savior! my husband! my children !"
and her pure spirit flew to the bosom of its
God: 'Margaret, with a' thrill
. of clonyulsive
horror, stooped to: raise the motionless body;
but wheri, She saw the life indeed was extinct,
she uttered one cry of agony, and stood mute
and still' as the Iffeles. remains before her, with
a gaze so vacant that the attention of those
around was drawn from the 'mother to the
daughter. The' children ' crowded
,into the
room with shrieks' and exclamations, the sol
diers surrounded that house of death with Oaths
most teriffic, and threaae of baiting it to the
• Who is still lining—the wife of Ito' bat - &Robert.
son, Store-keeper in the Custom House, New York
City.
ground -; while some of the, neighbors, hearing
a confused account of what had occurred. for
getting their terror of the Dritish, ran to thu
relief of the children.
" Margaret. dear Margaret," exclaimed ti
young man about eighteen, entering the room.
"hasten with me from this scene of horror and
- cruelty I Your mother's precious remains will
be attended to. Do not stay here, they are
firing the house. Let me conduct you and the
children to my aunt's; come, come, there is
no time to lose," he said, as he drew her to
wards the door. At this she raised her eyes,
and he started at the fearful expression they
wore. He saw her mind had forsaken her,
and- motioning to two men who had entered
with a middle aged woman, his aunt, to bear
the corpse to their house, on the opposite, side
of the street, he took the frighted infant in his
'arms, and leading Margaret by the hand, who
made no resistance. towards the docir, left Mrs.
Wade and the nurse to Collect the other help- ,
less little ones, and .to follow him. Indeed
they had no time to lose, the house had alrea
dy been set on fire,t but even the ruffian band
seemed to shrink back from the group which
emerged through the door. The.men bearing
the bleeding corpse. Alfred Wade holding m
his arms the motherless infant, and leading the
passive Margaret, whose appearance was in
deed awful, for her raven hair was saturated
with her mother's blood, as it flowed over her
shoulders in wide confusion, dyeing the while
dress she wore; while her face, of a ghastly
paleness, was streaked with the same dark and
fearful hue. The other orphans, screaming
with affright, clung to Mrs. Wade as they pas
sed through the crowd of soldiers, while Al
fred's expressive face too, told the horror and
detestatien he felt for then. It appeared as if
he, too.,was to be a victim, for the gun of one
of them was levelled at the breast of the young
rebel, when an officer,, who proved to be Gen.
Tryon, called upon him to desist; and ap
proaching Alfred, expressed his sorrow for
what had happened, and offered his, services to
procure the distreed group any assistance in
his power. A bitter amile curled the proud
lips of Alfred Wade; itiWas succeeded by a
look of deep and mournful agony, as, raising
his eyes, he exclaimed—" Can ye bring back
life to the dead ? Can ve restore to these help
less ones their mother !" At the name of mo
ther, a wild and troubled expression crossed
the vacant face of Margaret. She gave an in
quiring look at the General, as she repeated af
ter Alfred, -.Can ye give me back my mother ?"
and it passed away, leaving that face, lately so
glowing, cold and unimpassioned as the chisel
ed marble.
This, too, is the work of your followers,"
eiclaimed Alfred. as his eye flashed fiercely.
"'her mind is gone. shattered, destroyed. Oh!
England ! England ! there is retributive justice
on high !"
The General looked sad, but displeased :
'• Young man," he said. •• I make due allow
ance for the excited state of of your feelings. but
know, a commander often deplores the excesses
of his soldiery. and would check them were
he able. Pass on. but it would be well for
you to exercise more prudence in the expres
sion of your sentiments before an enfuriated
army."
Alfred bowed his head, and the afflicted lit-
tle company were soon sheltered within the
neighboring house we have spoken of, while
that which had for a few days past afforded them
a place of refuge, Was ere long, a black and
smoking pile of ruins.
It was on the third day after his separation
from his family that Mr. Caldwell turned home
• •
ward. An • engagement had taken place be•
tween the British and American armies. in
widen the former were driven back ; and as ,
they returned, their course was marked by the I
destruction of all their ruthless march had
hitherto spared. Entering the village of Eliza
beth, they set tire to the chureh of which Mr.
Caldwell was pastor. He, meanwhile, pro
ceeded onward, ignorant of the dark events
which had occurred during, his absence. With
melancholy feelings he beheld , the desolate
fields and burning farm house, with other marks
of the destroyer's foot-steps; Sick of blood,
loathing the horrors of war, he lifted up . his
heart to, the God he served, and prayed to him
to end the dreadful struggle, and rescue hiti
oppressed and stricken country. Meanwhile
tile thoughts of home, of wife and childrenoo
be enjoyed, at least, for a
,few days, came
across his soul and soothed its tvmults. True,
the dark and unusual forebodings of his. Han
nah sometimes entered his mind. but he soon
banished such gloomy ideas, anticipating her
gentle smile—her cordiall, welcome—her low
and fervent thanksgiving for his safe return.=
He saw his Margaret's aright and deepening
color, as she hastened tol meet 'lin, and the
noisy salute of the little group, as. aroused
(coin their sleep, they climbed to his _knees
with clamorous joy. A lteling of horror came
over him when he beheld the ruins of the house
in which he supposed he hed.left them. securely
sheltered. No trace of his. family was visible:
as -lidapproached the habitation of his neigh-,
bor, Wade, to inquire, concerning them. All'
around was, still as deatla,lyet through the.. low
windows of the. kitelienk. he beheld moving
gropps and more than e once :fancied ,that,
amidst other figures, he.diicerned the lovedone
of his Hannrh. , He tied.his horse s to a tree.
and raising the latch:entered . .the kitchen. The
master of the house was standing with his
back to the door, he rutted around, and,upon
beholding W.' Caldwell# without any :sign of
umished the-only surv i ving eon:Tiui " 1 '9 4 .77
markable providence attendant: on this sad disaster' of
life and property, Was the preservation' of the large faint.
ly Bible, the only bousebold.artiele saved,and whieb was
supposed at that time to have perished amid this •!wrech
of matter." It was accidentally discovered during the
last war by, Ger. Tourpkins, on Long. Island, in posies ?
Biota of a family who had gotten it froni a British'soldief,
supposed to have been taken by him' fibm MKCaldweira
house, on the ever Memorable day 'of the 'conflagration
and murder.. It bad been retained by the farmer: family
many years, from' the cirenutshmee of therein being tae
gistered the records of a nouterdtte family, together with
the record:id the - British soldier'sfainity.,, It Was not
until the rectory, of this long lost Bible;irudthe nine
children, who were then all living c o uld ascertain their
precise ages.
MEI
recognition, moved forward, passiiig throileh
an opposite door to an inner chamber. His 1
eves in an instant 6m tank in every ocenpant
of the" room ; his failing heart discerned the
absence.of her; the first looked for. the earliest
to meet and welcome him. He saw Margaret
-sitting on a low chair. with the infant sleeping
on her lap. As he-entered' she•raist4d her !tea
ry eyes and with a cry of agony hid her face
upon the babe she was holding. i'l'hat look
-told a fearful tale, then he knew _that some
thing. even beyond his heaviest fears had oc
curred. He heard the mournful cry of main
ma! mamma! from his little • Anne. who,
shrinking in a.corner from-all around, seemed
to refine to he comforted. That tender nut
ther, so prompt to answer the little loved-one's
call, where was she? Mrs. Wade 'rose reataa,
table where she was giving the other'ehildren
their supper, with a look' of sortrivi.' He could
command himselfliolongerAmt speechless and
unnerved • sank into a chair. ' Mrs. Wade
wrung her hands—" Our pastor! our beloved
pastor! how can I tell you! how• will you
bear it?"
: While a piereing shriek from Mar.
garet went like an electric flash thrinigli his
frame he sprung upon his feet•••Sltior her to
me Ido not keep me a moment longer-in sus
pense ; tell me the worst."
With unsteady steps, Alfred approached
from an opposite apartment. He had always
been dear to Mr. Caldwell, and - most 'of his
education-had been received beneath his roof.
His love for Mr: and Mrs. Caldwell was child
like. while Margaret had ever been his heart's
idol. He took the cold hand of Mr. •Cahlwell
and said,. with a quivering lip... Do you„dear
friend, remember the illustrious example of
submission to God. on the last Sabbath.. pre
sented before your people ?" He said. Bles
sed be the name of the Lord, though stripped
of all." His full heart could utter no more,
it relieved itself by sobs and tears. ; The
smitten husband groaned in agony—again he
uttered, ShOw her to Me'," and Alfred sup
ported his steps to the room. where his eves
beheld all that his heart had foretold. We
would draw a veil over !nut solemn scene.
That miserable night his solitary watch was
held beMde the corpse of her who in life had
ever been "the rainbow of his sight," and the
next morning, at an early hour, amidst the
lamentations of all who had known her,- the
loved and the lovely victim was committed to
the dust.
, From the day that this awful eventoccurred,
a change was wrought in Alfred Wade. He
had hitherto remained at home in compliance
with the solicitations of his friends, although
at times a hero's spirit was awakened within
him, and he longed to join the devoted band
Who counted not their lives dear to them, so
that their country might be rescued from its
thraldom. But he now determined to cast
aside all the ties that would detain him, and
either live -in a country free from the oppres
sor's chain, or perish in its defence.
From that time the name of Alfred Wade
was coupled with all that was valiant and mag
nanimous.; while, he and his excellent precep
tor, each to their different spheres, had but one
object in view—the rescue of their country
from tyranny and thraldom. Mr. Caidwell's
children were placed under the protection of
an aunt, in the interior the country, where
the horrors of war were known but from re
port, anti where their mother had'often been
solicited to take refuge; but who, in the devo
tion of her soul to her husband, had refused the•
offer.
It was a dreary night on the 2311 of.Novein
ber, 17 . 81, that tv , o persons were discovered in
a:temporary shed,. erected for a sentry box at
Elizabethtown Point, two mileS from the vil
hlige, The one was a sulky, dogged-lord:Mg
Man, of short stature, who sat with his hat
drawn over his eyes, as if to conceal their ex
pression, near a rough table, on which burned
a feeble light. The other, who ipood beside
him. carried in his dress and manner an air of
assumed smartness while his face bore deep
traces of liardened and determined villany.—
He was a refugee, who thirsted for the patriot's
blood, and who held in his hand a well filled
purse, the fruits of treachery. ,
" Lei your eye . glance on this,my good fel
said he.
" But how do you know he will certainly be.
down, to-morrow?" said Morgan.
He will he down,l tell you after Miss I,lv
ing,stun, who comee from New York with a flag
of truce. 1 wish you (Mold settle matters with
both at the same time."
It was settled that. the
,active patriot, whose.
'sagacity had so ofuin -thwarted the counsels of
the refugee, should be ,despatched by the. same
death which remove 4 his wife but a, little more
than'a yearbefore,and, Morgan. Judas-like, re
ceiv-ed,the,, price of,innoceitt
It was, indeed true. as Holmes had, by some
means ascertained, that Miss Livingston, the
beloved friend of, M. Caldwell, was on The
erisuing : rlay ,to- come, over to:Elizabeth Point,
and that Mr. Caldwell was therer to meet her
and conduct-her to ; Me :village. , She was one
of. those females who, as Gordon, in his His
tory of the Revolution. -remarks. "showed
amazing fortitude ar,d the strongest attachment
lel the • cause of -their el - marry ; who even
visited the prison-ship* and miter places -of
confinement: to solace - their suffering country-
'One •tif`.these 'bright examples.!:of which
America at 'that' titnilurnisbed• many.' who.
aroused by the distressed situation of. their
country;
"Put on •
• .
popta g e and faith, and generous eonstaucY.,
Even' pa • breast-plate. and trent serenely. forth
I/ j!/ 61 ' g tt'elwan° l : B "Minds? end
. ~9ko o B 111,ught,,to.feverish lips."
To pur prisoners to New York'she had been
indeed an angel of rtierey. s'litatiy wounded
'soldier bad died blessing the':gehtle'hand that
alleviated his en fferinga i t andv Vett' • ru not
from beside hisiailetahle. bed Anting the -awful
struggles of dissolving nature.
The day that the titurdcmus act was to be
tSo
perpetrated. is said to have been ushered in by
sad and niOninfiiloniens It was with the an
cestors of the writer that Mr. Caldwell spent
the previous night. and the lady awoke her
husband at dayrlig.lit, with the azBount of a
dark and fearful dream that had distarbid her
repose. It was all indistinct, but there were
troubled faces and wadings of blood; and so
deep was the impression made on her mind by
it, that she arose.frorn her bed and called up
her household. who .heard her dream related
with all that superstitious awe which troubled
times engender..t. At breakfast tt was repeated
to Mr. Caldwell, who remarked, b. It .was sin
gular that his dream should have been of such
a different nature, for they *ere of angel faces
and celestial songs, which soothed his spirit
into a frame it had not knOwn during the last
sad year." .
At noon he left the village, on such a day as
our November often produdes. When he
reached the Point. he found Miss Livingston
already arrived ; and; after placing her in his
carriage, returned for her trunk. The eye of
the murderer was upon his victim ; as Mr.
Caldwell stooped to raise the trunk. Morgan
exclaimed, as ,a veil fOr his treachery, you
have contraband goods there," levelled his
musket and fired. The ball entered his side
:near to the heart. and his blood gushed forth.
bathing the ground where he fell. The alarm
was given. and a small party of Americans be
ing near, Morgan was arrested without a grog
gle, appearing petrified with horror at the
murderous act he. had committed. Life was
not extinct, and Mr. Caldwell was raised from
the ground, carried on a litter to the village, and
placed in the house of one of his parishioners.
•A surgeon was sent for who pronounced it a
mortal wound.
His work was done. That high heart would
soon cease to beat, and these eloquent lips be,
sealed in death. He begged to be raised, 'and
like the last notes of the dying bird, so Often
told in song, his parting exhortation was more
impressive than the preceding one.
We hare said the day was gloomy, but at its
close the clouds were suddenly dispersed, and
a flood of glory from the s.etting sun poured it
self through the window,lilltuninating every
object in the room, and casting a halo around
the expiring patriot.
" I die, but God shall be with you," said be ;
" see you not this token of deliverance ? Even
so shall the Sun of Liberty butt forth from
the clouds which obscure it. and my country.
shall rejoice in its beams. Farewell! carry
my blessing and forgivness to him wh? thirst
ed for niy•blood ; _and now I yield ine,tritu thy
hands, oh, thou Redeemer of sinners! my hope
and_ my salvation'." His voice failed. Calm
on the bosom of his God, his soul had sunk to
rest, and those who beheld that parting smile,
that look Of love and peace, learned that death
was not that appalling tiling it had before ap-
peared.
Deep, deep, was the wound made by his loss.
The house was crowded night and day by those
vho would gaze once more upon the face and
form so venerated and beloved : and when the
hotame to consign the body to its narrow
house ; it was nut alone a family, but a town, a
state, a country, mingling their lamentations
and raising their-united voices. crying. "Alas !
alas ! my father, the chariots.of lsrml and the
horsemen thereof."
He sleeps in the village chuirchlard of Eli=
zabeth„ beside the wife of his youth. The
God who has. Said that "the seed of the righte
ous shall not he forsaken." remembered the
orphans when he took their parents. The be
nevolent Lafayette adopted the eldest son, and
educated him with
,parental care, while the
other children formed connexions of the hap
piest kind, and were often cited by the good
people of Elizabeth as examples of providen
tial care. Their descendants are among some
of the most respected families in New Jersey,
andithey will bel i ew-itness that the leading
aim' facts- in this narrative are literally
true.
Peace In thine ashes, thou martyr in a holy
cause ! Thy name shall be embalmed in oar
hearts, while the remembrance of thy wrongs
and sufferings shall teach us more highly to
value the blessings we enjoy. and more grate
fully to bless the hand which bestows them.
Novi—A fancy sketch founded on these facts was
published in 1833. Having undergone revision andeor
reetion, it is now given as a matter of history. A son of
the martyr Caldwell is still a clerk in one of the bureaus
of the Treasury Department.
tThe dream of the lady, and its effects upon her mind,
occurred exactly as related.
A DELIGHTFUL 00IT4TRY.-ThQ New Or
leans Picayune publishes a letter, written . by an
officer of the army at Corpus Christi. the post
occupied by General Taylor's, army of occupa
-lion. in which the • (allowing passage occurs :
Florida may be the • land of promise." but
Texas is the land of varmints." In clear
ing.tlie, ground to pitch my tent, 1 killed's wa
ter moccasin; about 3 o'clock in the morning,
1 was wakened up by the barking of a dog:
he had just,run krattle-snake out of my neigh
.bor'S tent, when the rattling and the barking
arniiied me-4 rattles, captured;.-1 again lay
doWn, Sod When day broke, a yejloW necked
lizardwas cocking' 'his eye ctinninglyiyf mo
from the ridgepole of my tent: '"1- aiming op,
seized rhy boot ta despatch him, when lo ! out
of the hoot dropped a tatuntula! Exhausted
, from-fright and fatigue. I sank back into a
chair ; but no sooner down than I- was cola
pelledrapidly to abandon the position, having
-been stung in the rear by a scorpion ! Besides
, the, above mishaps, we lost a lialuable dog by
a shark. the dog hail jumped overboard from
a boat to follow. his master to the.shore, when
the Soracions monitor caught him. ,
•i• A Covivrttv EntTon Flly9, om onr ortsirre
will he found . a torn coat and othy '.'
r artii les.
Many Wenuntry-editor is found with a turn coat
on his vinside, -• : . - .• •
iii'ashinginn Chess
tiub' hive clinlletiged the Baltitinie etiesieluto
regular*et-fo in thninoble - "'
DANDIES.-All the dandies in New York are
cutting off their mustaches! says the Mitres.