D. A. BUEHLER, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR
VOL. XVIII.-16.1
(From the Loi&vine Journal.
LANDING OF THE FIRST AMERICAN
LINE 'AT VERA CRUZ. „ •
ST 0.1117. • OATTIIX, T. S. ARM?
At the signal stand", the stofboats, which hid
been previously fieighted with the (rent line, oole
f isting of artillery. opproached the store. They
were covered by lightdraughted guteboanranchor
ed in the immediate vicinity of the beach. Mean
while, lilt for her own amusement; the inimitable
tittle .Spitatie" shipped her anbhor, rounded to,
and threw her shells at the great curds of d'Ulloa,
like a child at play; casting its marbles at the for
trees of a giant. The castle rened back in angry
reply, but did not succeed in Inflicting any pun
ishment upon the tantalising aggressor. Soon a
prolonged shoo from the “irmy afloat" announo.
ed the unllirling of the American flag on the ene
my's ehov‘end the excited soldiery were men
.dashing from the boats unmindful of the surf in
their ...goner to form and rally around the "star
spangled banner."
The signal flag is in the sky,
Ten thousand hearts ate heating high,
Ye of the foremost line draw nigh I
Huai!
Prepare to land—take heed—stand by l •
Ham !-
The surfboats touch the shiP's tall side,
Along thW lee they smoothly ride,
.Apd yonder waits your gallant guide—
Huns!
Down—down—dmeend with rapid stride—
Hama -
Ya
'bent r t f en brow
Ile ter---tie as
Musel
Crowd close, sit down, from stem to prow,
Hu= l
Mee yowler fleet stretched out supine
From east to day's remotest cline!
What yokes shout! what Wight blades shine I
How !
Their eyes are an ye—form the lino,
Hume!
Brave friends, thanks for sour greeting deer,
it nerves Us for the irate seVern;
W here is the starlag 'tis here !
Hum!
Unfurl the colas—give hack the cheer!
Huzca I
Now watch the war-worihr owe again
All eyes upon the tlarahies main !
Irk"land"--'tia .land"—theaignal plain,
Hum I
Cut ca—give way with stalwart strain—
num I
itirt.O. , antre•the barita-ply, ply the oer-•-
The billows rave—the war flop roar—
'the death shells burst behind—beim ;
Hums !
Deed to the strokes-strain for the idiom- ,
Maus
The bill hills Asir with ihunder riven,
Around ye were red bolts ere driven,
Above ye dome the bird oyeraven,
H urea !
Strive, brothers, as ye nc'cr have striven,
Haas
The fixemnet surf-boat nears the lend,
!the ground —Hit (kelt the gallant band—
'hey bilttat the eutf--therizain the sand,
• Hum •
Tbey mount the deep with eight hand;
..Hciapta
THE NIGHT AFTER THE BATTLE
A correspondent of the N. 0. Bella gives
'the following brieldescription igthe field
of Buena Vista on the night after the hauls :
"Saddened more than I would desire to
admit, I moved over the field which Was
so recently the scene of such bloody strife,
and terrible was the evidence of that day's
carnage. The shattered bodies, which
made death appear to the poor sufferers a
thing to be desired, and the horses, whose
riders in many instances lay Motionless
beneath them, were struggling in the ago
nies of death. I perceived many a hole
band silently moving about, in whale faces
were strangely blended the desire to find,
and the fear of finding, the friends whom
they sought among the dead-9n arriving
at that part of the field near the mountains,
to the left of our position, where a portion
of our little' army received during the day
the fiercest - charges of the enemy, I saw
the bodies of many a fallen foe, and,felt
bow dearly our brave artillery made the MP
emy suffer for the gnus they were com
pelted to abandon, I saw many of my
countrymen cold and motionless where
they fell, mingled with the enemy---defi-
Mice tuition their brows, their swords still
grasped in their hands, and I knew they
were undaunted and unwavering to the
end."
A TANKiDi PEDLAR BIT.
A Yankee Pedlar, one of that great tribe
who have learned the art of skinning a
entered the store of a Yankee mer
chant in Lowell, and wanted to sell him
noise rixor strops. The Merchant &di
ced having any thing to do with him, and
ordered him out. A Yankee pedlar is not
got of so easily. - There is no getting rid
of him, while there is a chalice of wearying
your patience, until you make erporchwee.
He's like the.immorial "Jim, Bags." He
knows the value of •pesaiii and questions;
end won't leave of his noose unless he's
well paid for it.
'Come Milder, now I awew Sot
trade'aid Two
“Yggekt do nothing alba kind." -
"Lock here;' now--I'd take any goods
you've get here in payment. "
"No you *wet.' • •
4 , 0 get oat; tell you what I'll do.
Fit sell these at the lowest whole
' sale prices. and take any of your goods at
your retail figures. That's Ur.'
"Well, B s you're so pressing,. I'll take
twelve doxen, that sr ill be $72, which you
shall take, out in any goals I choose, that
I have in the store."
I s'pose you aint got nothing here
That Leant dispose of somewhere."
Make out your bill and receipt it."
. The pedlar did so, and called on the
merchant to select the goods he chose to
. ft ay him in, whereupon the merchant hand
ed him eta dozen back and said: "I 'retail
:these at one• dollar each—we are now
square. I bought your goods according to
agreement at your wholesale price, and I
sell them to you again at my r tail price:"
The, pedlar looked d)ggers ut he had
to put up with the mo ifi • tion of being
overreached, which w s s greatest trou
ble, and made him righidawn savage.
Three essentials to a false story-teller--
a good memory, a bold face, and fools for
his audience.
BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL.
DT I. T. HEADLICY.
While this multitudinous army lay a
round Boston; Without any, idea of disci
pline except to shoot straight, or any defi
nite aim beyond the mere determination to
fight; the ofilcera who cointnanded'thein;
lookiig on things in a clearer light, were
divided as to the best coulee to be pursued.
Putnam, with his usual promptness and
boldness, and Prescott, were for tiltattle if
they could get the militia behind in trench
meets. 'f,hey, thought, and justs 9, that an
engagement, unless peculiarly disastrous to
the Americans,' would give them confi
dence in themselves, and kindle a spirit
of resistance throughout the land.. The oth
er officers were fearful of a defeat, and dread
ed the result of one on the army andeoun
try. The bolder counsel of Putnam and
Prescott, however, prevailed.
The English, in the meantime, feeling
the restraint of theieposition, laid two dif
ferent plans to advance into the open coun
try, but wore in both - eases turned backby
the precautions of the Americans, who
were constantly informed of their • move
ments, - At length, abandoning every oth
-of-project, Gen. Gage directed 4 4ll his ef
forte to force - a paasage byttm - peninindu and
PM,'f‘caPlCo 43 l7;: - .'lltis•-IT.Pi•Rs4 I I k
.
• • *-411V - ktikritieieltieg (refit' LW '
to Weer, wished on - thelforth eylse Mys
tic and on the South by Charles river, while
a narrow channel separates it from Boston
on the east. The spot where this penin 7
sula joins the main land is only about a
hundred yards across, and is called the
Neck. Nrom this point rises Bunker's
Hill, and a little farther in towards Boston,
Breed's Hill. To prevent the egress of
the British by this Neck, the planof which
they had receivedfrom friends in Boston,
the American officers resolved to fortify
Bunker's' Hill which completely command
ed. it. Col. Prescott was ordered to occu-
'
py this height with a thousand Men, and
intrench himself strongly there. Having
assembled on the Green at Cambridge,
they leaned their heads for a few moments
on theirfirelocks, while the solemn prayer
rose on the evening air in their behalf, and
then took up their line of march. •By
some Mistake, or purposely, they went far
ther amend occupied Breed Hill. At mid
night, those stern-hearted men stood on the
top, while Putnam marked out the lines of
the entrenchment. By daylight, they had
constructed a redoubt about eight rods
square, in which they could shelter them
selves. At four o'clock in the morning the
people of Boston and the British% officers .
ware waked up a heavy cannonading from
an English ship-of-war, whose command
er first perceived the position which the
Americans had taken up during the night.
The English °filmes could - scarcely believe
their eyes, when they saw this redoubt al
moat over their heads. An immediate bat
de was inevitable, for this height command
ed Boston, and soon as batteries could be
erected there, the city must fall. All now
was bustle and confusion, fur each one
knew that in a few hours a most deadly
conflict must take place. Crowds began
to gather cth the shore, and thousands of
eager eyes were turned with intense anxi
ety, and wonder, upon that low, dark re
doubt that crowned the summit of the hill.
In two hours' time all the city, and the
ships of weir and floating batteries, were
pointed against that single silent structure.
The city shook to the thunder of cannon,
and that lonMy height fairly rocked under
the bombs and balls that tore up its side.
It absolutely rained shots and shells upon
its top; still all was silent above and about
it; yet one near enough to catch the sound
could have heard the heavy blows of the
spade and pickaxe, and the constant fall of
centres those hardy men tolled, as they
never toiled before. Ileedkas of the iron
storm that milled around them, they eon
iinued their work, and by noon had run a
trench nearly down to the Mystic river on
the north. The fire • was too hot to let
them work in the open field near the bank,
while Putnam saw at a glance that this
must be closed up at all hlsards ; for the
enemy marching swiftly along that sumoth
open ground, could take hint in the flank
and rear. This unprotected spot . was a
meadow, freshly mown, and studded thick
with haycocks, all ready to be gathered
into the barn. • Aldo& rail fence crossed
it-From the hill to the river, of which Put
nam, with that quieknese of invention ho
had acquired in his long partisan warfare,
iinmediately• took 'advantage: . Heordered
the men to take the rails from another fence
near by, and running them through this
one, pile the hay between. In a moment
the meadow was black with men, some
(tarrying rails on theirshoulders and souse
with arms full of hay, and all hurrying on
ward. •in a short time that single fence
looked like a huge embankment. This
completed the line of defence of the left
wing areterititticiidirelt extended front the.
Mystic riVer.up to the redoubt. Behind
the redoubt lay a part of Me right wing, ,
the . ., test being flanked by the houses
Charlestown at the base of the hill. Thuo
stretched-over and dOwn the hill, like a
a,iuge cord, lay 'the Ahacrican army, ner
ved with the desperate valor of freemen
battling on-their native hills.
ThetrentendOus cannonade, which had
been kept up all the forenoon, having fail
ed to. dislodge the enemy, it was resolved
by the British commanders to .. carry the
heights by assault. Putnam, in the mean
time, had strained every nerve to add to
his means of defence. Almost constantly
on horseback, he was riding hither and
thither, superintending every thing, and
animating the men by words of encourage
ment. During the night, while Prescott
was hurrying forward the works on Breed's
Hill, lie spurred furiously off to Cambridge
after reinforcements. The thunderof can
non at four o'clock in the morning quickly
brought him to the saddle, and in a few
minutes he was galloping up ,to the re
doubt. Ordering up a detachment, to
throw up. a work on Bunker's llill t which
commanded the highs on which, the - anAor,
lay, he again 'flew to Cambridge to hurry.
up the !roops. The Neck, over which he
was compelled to pass, was at this time
swept by the artillery of a matt-of-war and
GETTYSBURG, 11. 1 FRIDAY EVENING, JULY 2, . .1847.
floating batteries. Through this fire Pet
neat boldly galloped, aud"to his joy found
that Stark and Reed were on the way to
rhetie of action. Disposing these troops
tote
o
beet advantage; be cooly awaited the
tern to onset, which he knew was props
ring'for him. The,day was clear; not a
cloud rested on the summer heavens, and
the heated earth seemed to pant under the
fierce rays of the noonday BUM As be
stood and gazed with a stern, yet anxious
aye, a scene prevented;itself that might
have moved the boldest heart. The Brit
ish army had crossed the change!. end now
stood in battle array on the shore. In the
intervals of the roar of artillery...which
played furioUsly from Morton's Hill, were
beard the thrilling strains or martial music,
and the thirring blast of the bugle, while
plumes danced 'and standards waved in the
sunlight, and nearly five thousand,bayo
nets gleamed and shook over the dark
mass below. Just then a solitary horse
man, of slender form, was seen moving
swiftly, over Bunker's Hill, and making
straight for Putnam. It was Den. War
ren, the gallant and noble-hearted Warren,
who had gazed on that silent redoubt and
his bravo brethren there, till he could tio
longer restrain his 'feelings and had come
to share their fate. Putnam with t :en-
enmity_ for_ w hich wan xe .r table, itrt ,
mediately offered to put himself under his
let*rs. • "No," said Warren, "I come as
'a volUnteer, to show those rascals that the
Yankees can fight. Where_ titian I be
most needed t" The former pointed' Id
the redoubt as the most covered spot.—
"Tell me," said Warren; while his lips
quivered with the excitement, "where the
amid toil be heaviest - "Go then,.to the
redoubt," said Putnam, Prescott is there,
and wilt do his duty—if we can hold that,
the day is ours." Away galloped War
ren, and as-he' dashed up to the entrench
ments, a loud huzza rent the air, and roll
ed in joyful accentselong the lines.
Nothing could exceed the grandeur and
excitemeat of the scene at this moment.—
Strung over that hill and out of sight lay
fifteen lendred sons of Liberty, coolly
awaiting the onset of the veteran thousands
of Englaid, tnd sternly resolved to prove
worthy of the high destiny entrusted to
their 'card, - 'The roof ofitteittinsesef Bos
ton, the shores, and every church steeple
were black with spectatoro, looking now.
upon the forming colums upon the shore,
and nbw st the silent entrenchments that
spanned the heights. Many of them had
eons, and brothers, and husbands, and lov
ers on the hill, and the hearts of all swell
ed high or sunk low, with alternate hope
and fear, as they thought of the strength
and terror of the coming shock. Oh, how
the earnest prayer went up to heaven, and
with what intenee love and longing each
heart turned to that silent redoubt. At
length they English beipin to advance
in two dente columns. 'Putnam then rode ',
along the lines, kindling the enthusi
asm of the men already roused to the high
' est pitch, and ordered them to hold their
fire till the enemy was within eight rods,
and then' aint at their alai:thumbs. On
came the steady battalions, ever and anon
halting to ht the artillery play on the in
trenchment,and then advancing in the most
perfect order and beautiful array. To the
spectator, that artillery appeared like mo
ving spots of flame and smoke ascending
the slope, but not a sound broke the omi
nous add death-like silence that reigned
around the heights. But for the flags that
drooped in the hot summer air over the
redoubt, you would have deemed it desert
ed. But fltulthing eyes were there bent in
wrath on the enemy as slowly and steadily
they ascended the hill, and closed sternly
in for the death-struggle. Tiny were no
ble troops—aid se in perfect order, with
their gay standards and p olished bayonets
floating and flashing in the sun, they ad
vanced nearerand nearer, their appearance
was imposing in' the extreme. Stopping
every few yards, they delivered their deep
and regular 'collies on tho embankments,
but not a shot' replied. That silencn was
more awful thin the thunder of cannon, for
it told of carnage and death slumbering'
there. At length, when the hostile columns
'were almost agimst"the intrenchments,the
signal was given, and the stern order"Stax,"
rung with startling clearness on the air. A
sheet of flame replied, running like a flash
of lightning aloag that low dark wall. and
the Bent rank of the foe went down, as if
suddenly engulpbed in the earth. But those
behind, treading Geer their dead compan
ions, pressed steadily forward, yet the
'same tempest of fire Mote their-bosoms, ;
and thersunk amid their fallen cOntrades.'
Still the steady battalions nobly struggled,
to bear up against the &idly sleet, but all
in rain; rank after rank went down, like
the sand.bank as Beeves over the stream,
and at length,•fudons with rage and_Atett
pair, the whole army broke amid Bed for
the shore. Then went ups longand loud
hurls-from that lade redoubt, Which Wes
echokithewhole length ofthe lines, and
aneterid' hr thoviands ofvoiees from the
.rederttedsteepha, and heights of Boston.
The .41111ComfitUsi fro Opt novei halted till
.therinatihett the shore, where their com
124Anitkattetripted3O rally them. )Vhil*
they drive seen riding to and fro amid the
broken ranks, Putnam put spurs to his
horse and galloped off, in his shirt-sleeves,
after reinforcement . But the Neck over
which they must pass was now swept by
such a galling fire that they refused to stir.
Carried away by intense anxiety, he
rode backwards and forwards several
dines, to show there was no danger, while
the balls ploughed up the earth in furrows
around him : but few, however, could be'
induced to follow, mid he hastened back to
the scene of action.
The spectacle the hill now presented
was terrific beyond description. That re
doubt was silent again, while the dead and
dying la r y in ghastly rows near its base.
The imposing columns were again on the
march, while Charlestown, which in the
interval had been set on tire by the enemy,
presented a new feature in the appalling
scene. Tt roar and crackling of the
Lanes were tinctly heard in the Ameri
ciunittes, and t smoke in imniense vol
umes rolled fast a furious heavenward,
blotting out the sun id shedding a htrange
and lurid light on the dead-covered field.
"FEARLESS AND FREE."
The British commander fondly hoped that
the 'Mae would involve the heights, con
fusing the- deadly aim of the Americans,
and covering the assault; but the-blessed
breeze changing, inclined it gently seaward,
leaving the battle-field unobscured and open
as ever. Again the drums beat their but , '
tied charge, and the columns pressed gal
lantly forward. Advancing more rapidly
than before,-they honked only to pour in 1
their heavy trollies. and Shed hurrying on
over their dead and wounded companions,
who had fallen in the first assault, seemed
about to sweep in a resistless flood over
the intrenehments. On, on they came,
shaking the heights with,their heavy muf
fled tread, till thtty stood - breast to breast
with that silent redoubt, when suddenly it
again gaped and shot forth flame like some
huge monster...._k_er_nmosesmt it seemed
as if the atmosphere was an eleinek. of
fire. It was a perfect hurricane of fire - and
lead, and the firm-set ranks disappeared
like mist in its path., The living still'
strove manfully to stem tho fight, and the
reeling ranks bore up for awhile amid the
carnage led by as bailie officers as ever
cheered men on to dead. Hut that fiery
sleet kept driving full in their faces, smi
ting them down rank shat rank, with such
arful rapidity that the bravest gave way.
Thelines ham kuckwarda, th ,n sprungto_
their places again, again rolled back; till
at hot, riddled through and through by that
astonishing fire,Me whole mass gave way
-like a loosene cliff, and broke furiously
down the hill.' Again the triitinphant quit
zas" rocked the heights, and the slopes of
that hill turned red with flowing blood.
A sudden silence follnwed this strange
uproar, Airokon- only. the smothered
groans and cries of the aoudad, iying i d() al
most within reach of th ubt. Ors that
fatal shore the English commanders rallied
for the third and last time their disordered
troops, while the Americans, burning with
indignation and disappointment, drove
home their last cartridges,
The scene, the hour., the immense re
sults at stake, all combined to fill the bo
som of every spectator' With emotions of
the deepest sadness, :milk and fear. The
smoke of-battle hung -hi light wreaths a
round that dark rpOubt, while near by,
Charlestown was' one 'imiiirof
flame and smoke. The slope in•front of
the hreAstwork spotted,Wait iththe slain,
and, ever and anon came the booming of
cannon as they still thundered - on the A
merican intrenchments. The sun now
stooping to the western ; horizon, bathed
that• hill-top in its gentle light,and the mild
summer evening was liasicninton. The
hills looked green and beautiful in the dis
tance—all_nature was at rest, And it iniento
ed impossible that such ; carnage had wast
ed there a moment before.
Mit another sight Nen arrested every
eye: the reformed ranks of the enemy
were again in motion. Throwing aside
their . knapsacks to lighten their burdens,
and reserving their fire, the soldiers, with
fixed bayonets, marched swiftly - and stead
ily over the slope, and up to the very in
trenchments. Only one volley smote them,
for the Americans, alas, had-fired their last
cartridges and worse than all were with
out bayonets ! Clubbing their muskets,
however, they stilt beat back the enemy,
when the reluctant order to retreat was
given. The gallant-fellows behind the hay
and fence below still maintained their ,
ground, and thus saved the rest of the ar
my.
Putnam, aiding amid the men, and
waving his sword over his head, endeavor
ed to make them rally again on Bunker's
Hill. Findingall hie efforts vain, he burst
forth into a torrent of indignation. His
stout heart could not endure that the day,
so nobly battled for, should be lost at last.
He rode'between them and the enemy be
fore which they fled, and there stood in the
hottest of the fire. But neither words nor
example could stay their flight. Without
ammunition; or bayonets, or breastwork,
it was a hopeless task. - -Warren, too, in
terposed his slender form between his own
troops and those of the Britiih. Moving
slowly down the western declivity of the
hill, he, planted himself, all alone, before
the ranke,
and pointing to the 'motion en
their standards, strove, by his stirring elo
quence, to'rouse them to another effort.-.-
-Carried away by a loty enthusiasm, be re
minded them that Heaven watched over
their cause. and would sustain their efforts.
While he thus calmly Stood, and bent his
flashing eye on the advancing battalions.
an English' officer, who knew liimesnatele
ed a musket from a soldier, end shot him
dead in ids footsteps. '
Although the Americans were compelled
to retreat aerosa the Neck, 'irhieb Was
skterit: brentmett, they ' so ifireidlietriperiu
dvely little; and finally look bp their pool ,
ton on Winter, and Prospeet' Hillse and
night - soon-4Sr shut , in the seette. It had
been.* tearful 'day—nearly ltio thotetatid
men lay fallen across each other ea that
hi,ghto fifteen 4nttdred or whota Were'Brii
ish soldiers. The battle-field'remained in
the hands of the English, bit the victory
was truly. - The news spread like wildfire
over the land, and one long shout went up,
the first shout of liberty ; which the hu
man soul lietrd and answered, and shall
answer the world over.'
•An incident occurred in thin battle which illus
trates forcibly the horrors of civil war.. As the
British troops were palming through Charlestown
to snack the Ameriemis,asoldier entered a house
where a man lay sic,(. The young and beautiful
wife, on leaving the chamber, met the soldier, who
inunediately addressed insulting proposals to her.
Finding himselfstently repulsed he resorted to vi
olence, when bar screams animal her invalid hus
band. Rising from his sick bed, and seining his
sword, he staggered into the room, when, seeing
his straggling wife in the 4111101 of a soldier he ran
him through the body. The miserable wretch fell
backward, arid looking„ tip at his destroy r, cried
out, "My brother I" At the 143111 e moment he also
was reeognired, and with the exclamation. "1 have
murdered my brother." the outraged husband fell
dead on the corpse ',dare him. These unfortunate
brothers were .eotchmen, ono of whom had emi
grated to this country, while the other had entered
the English - Army. Atter long years of separa
tion, they thus met to die-..the slayer and the
slain—together.
PRETTY G00D......4 western editor de
dares that some of the young women who
pass,his vitt* in the arks, on the river,
are perfect divinities. lie means, says ti
northern raper, ark angels.
R:. lING I'HE WILL.
SlVatts: AIDT.
This morning I received a note front-my
al i anced bride, Constance Grebe in, request-
Mg me to attend at two o'clock that day at
the house of her late uncle in Harley-street,
Tor the purpose of hearing hie will read.—
I had the greatetrt plea ante in' complying
With this invitation. I had really begun to
fancy that old Mr. Graham .was going to
remain perpetually on the earth, like Mrs.
Merlotti* "Undying One :" he was-always
on the point of death, and always cured,
and tenter than ever in the course of a few
Iblyto bust month the 'cold water system
manned completely to renovate him, but he
suddenly relapsed, departed from the world,
and left fdlythotisand pounds and a will be
himltim. • -Though-Constance Is the pret
tiest and Most amiable girl,of my negaint
mute, I had determined hewer to marry her
while her untie lived; ho had frequently
proclaimed her his heiress. but as frequent
ly took offence at entmething or at nothing
in , her behaviour; '"anti bequeathed his
wealth to a hospital, or lunatic asylum.
I felt quite easy on the present occasion,
for Mrs. Bates,Mr. Orthatt's honse-keep
er, Itid given• me' information that. only an
• fore---hor-trussuteit--deathr-hir-had ,
handsomely provided for Constance. I
however, that it was my policy to ap
pear ignorant of the circumstance, Con
stance being very romentie, and Cooskivice's
mother very suspicious.
At the appointed. tiMe I walked into the
drawintroom in Ilvirleystveet.;;;the.very
few relatives of the oldgentleman were as
eembled. ,There was GOnsisitee._Wkieg
as Ilebe might have Vciked ifr Liebe lied
over worn crape Or boantiaziio; Constance's
mother, looking stiff; cross; and uneasy;
an elderly female cousin; and S. 'tripling
of the deceased. I feared! übne , or them.
I-knew that Mr. Graham disliked his fine
lady sister-in-law. deapised "Ike servility of
his elderly cousin, and dreaded.the frolics
of his stripling nephew. I seated, myself
by Constance. and,in a soft to
protest my affection and ditunterestudeess.
PKnawing the eaprice-of..your unele t my
beloved," I said, al havg "very. reopen to 'I
conclude that I shall hear yotrark disinher ,
ited; this, however
,will o_pittle mo
ment to me; have entinglt for comfort,
though not for lusury,..and, as , the song
beautifully. saysl7-,.
astiti Iliad in my beast be it sever forgot , ,
That the wealth , of the cottage is lose."
Mr. Chilton.?' said Constance's
mother. looking excessively-sneering and
shrewish, “that it is pretty well known
ihnt my. dimglor. .04 like 1110Wheilifilit
uncle's wealth." - _ • ~
filndeeci, , madame!" -1 repilatie-sifilarst
Start Of surptiseiol•vae awarelhat
stitinteO Was , 1 1 1 11 4 11 : 00 ,kitikei Om'
tents of Mr. Graham!. will. -
al have heard a eurmise hazarded,"
sharply interposed the eklerlyeneeim.ithat
Mr. Graham was no 4 id his senate • whoa ,
he made it." • ,•
uThe mind must be both base an 4 weak,"
retorted Constance's mother, 0. which could
give credence :to such a ruinor.' l . , And
forthwith a sparribg dialogue. took place
between the two 'adios., during , which I
whispered• Constance a- • page of Moore's
poetry done into prose.
Temple now entered the room, the so
licitor and intimate frieniLef,tbe Ina Mr.
Graham ; he was a handsome young maw.
and had presumed at one time to .14 his
eyes to Constance; be opened the will
and We all' became mutely attentive, ' Oh.
what a disappointment awaited us I Three
thousand pounds were bequembed,to Con
stance, (this ,wit* the old hnlow'a idea of
handsoine provision!) Five , hundred
pounds to thq elderly cousin, ditto to the
stripling nephew, email legacies to, the see.
rants, and the tOGll4odelf 101118 wealth le
found a cold **let oelahliahmeat Air Weal
who were not rich enough 19 PAY IL grata.
ty for being half drowned. Temple raid
the name* of the attesting witnesses. and
then refreshed himself with shorty ami
biscuits. As be was a Aimed 4-the
ly r his presence waa no. restraint ANI-cour
versation.
&Iliac will ought to: be dispated,", *Did
Constance's mother. looking very red;, 01
do not believe Mr.- Glrahent !se tOis stew
ses whets be madeit."
"I thought." salaam elderly. cribrin With
a sneer, "that the mind must be both base
sod weak- vrbiclt could' tiro 'credence to
such a eurmise."
«Dear - mother* taid - Constance. "do
uot be discompoW; pant very, Well cow
tented---1 shall not be Oita a
_pttionleiss
bride." ConstancatbanilialoulVeisifil.
lotto white band.—laiffeeted not to see it.
"My dear Mimi Grahani " I said, "do
no not believe mope cruel and selfish as to
wish to plunge you intirpoverty."
•!I thought•you said that your income
was sufficient for every comfort," remark
ed the stripling nephew.
• 1 did not condescend to answer him, but
continued: oifflo, Constance, though it
breaks toy heart to do so, 1 give you back
yotiefreedom, saying, in the pathetic words
of Haynes Rayly, ..May your lot in life be
happy, undisturbed by thoughts of toe!'
I was just making Mr the door, leaving
Constance looking more like Niobe than
Ilebe, when Temple said, "1 think the party
had better remain till 1 have read the codi•
cil."
I restated myself in amaze, and Tem
ple forthwith read that the testator, being
convinced tharhe had received nobenefit
from the cold water system, revoked and
reseinded - his legacy to it, bequeathing the
same to his beloved niece, Constance Gra
ham.
"Constance ! dear Constance !" I ex
claimed, in the softest of tones. N But Con-
stance looked neither like lick. itor Nio - -
be, but as stern and severe as Medea. 1
pull attacked Temple. "Is it legal,'
said, "only to read part of a will r
"I read every word of the will," he, re
plied, "and, having greatly fatigued hny self
by so doing, I trust that it was perfectly to
refrrsh myself with a glass of sherry before
I read the codicil."
I was going to utter some further re
marks, when Constance's Mother
°Good morning. Mr. Chilton!" in a tone
of voice which left me no alternative bull ON THE RELIEF sENT TO IRELAN
to echo her leave-taking, and iG descended'
the stairs, pursued by a smothered laugh
Irons the party in the drawing-room, re
turned home in very low spirits, and en
tered my adventure or rather mis-adventure
in my diary, deducing front it this valuable
pie - Cc of advice to gentlemen In search of
fortune :- ) "Never believe that a will is con
cluded till you have inquired whether there
is any codicil to it "
THE BOLDIER'S WIFE, A THRILLING
SKETCH
One of the most striking cases of pres
ence of mind
_and self-possession ever re
corded, came to light in a trial which took
place some years since in Ireland. A wo
man travelling along n road to join her
husband, who was a soldier, and quartered
at Athlone, was joined by a pedlar, Who
was going the same• way. They entered
into a conversation during a walk of some
hours ; but as the day began to wane, they
agreed that they should stop fur the night
at some house of entertainment, and par
sue their pedistrian journey the next (lay.
They 'reached an humble inn, situated in a
lonely spot by the road side ; and, fatigued
after a lung days walk, they were glad to
find themselves under shelter of a roof.
Paving refreshed themselves with the
sbbstantial supper before them, they ex
pressed a wish silently to retire. They
Were aluwaintn...the travellers' room, and
went to rest in their respective beds. The
pedlar, before retiring, had called the land
lord:aside, and given into hie keeping the
peek, %Ouch he had unstrapped froni his
•back,tilt morning, telling him that it con
tained a considerable amount of money,
and much valuable property. They were
oot-long Piled before the pedlar fell into
ssound sloop; but the poor woman, per
bps. from ever-fatigue, or from thoughts of
-smog ber, husband the next day, lay
Awake.
Aeouple Of hours might have passed,
when she saw the door slowly opened, and
a person slowly enter, holding a light,
Irhich he screened with his hand. She
: instantly recognised in hi in (meanie young
men she, hati seen below—son to the land
lord. He advanced with stealthy step to
the bed-side of the pedlar, and watched him
for4-lew-etrosids. lie then went out,
;and
. entered with his brother and father,
who held in his hand a large pewter basin.
They went on tiptoe to the - bed-side, where
thb - pedlar lay in deep sleep. -
One (4 ., the young men drew out a knife,
and 4 while the father held the basin so as
xoTeeeive the blood, he cut the poor vie
tim's throatfrom ear to ear. A slight, half
' diblis i greamwed all "was still, save the
cautious ; movements of the party "bngaged
in theletal deed. They had brought in
with hem a large sack, into which they
direst "the unresisting body. The poor
lornatin lay silently in her bed, fearing-her
turn *mild come next. She heard low
-mutterings among the men, from which she
soon gathered that they were debating
whether they should murder her too, as
they ilnired she might have it in her power
to betray them.
One
. of them : said that he was sure ; she
wu faidaeleep, and there was no occasion
to trouble themselves more ; but to make
sure nf,thia, being the cue, one came to
hex 44;side, with the candle in his hand,
and the other with his knife. She kept
snob perfect Cenunand over, herself, as not
lo:hetray, in her countenance any sign that
she was cobseiouis of what was going mi.
Tho . coodle . was passed close to her eyes;
the.nnife was drawn across close to her
threat; she never winced, or showed, by
any movement of feature or of limb, that
she. 'apprehended danger. 'So the incur
whispered •that.ehe was soundly asleep,
that nothing was to be feared from her, and
.went mit of the room, removing the sack
.whiehedutained the body of the murdered'
How•long,must the night of horror have
seemed to that poor lone woman I How
frightful was its stillness and darkness.—
Thelpresence ,of mind which had so as
tonishingly enabled her to act, a part to
-which she owed her, life, sustained her all
through the trying scenes which she had
topic She did not hurry front her room
at en unusually early hour, but waited till
she had heard all the family astir for some
time. She then went down, and said she
believed she had overslept herself, in con
sequence of being greatly tired. She ask
ed where the pedlar was, and was told that
he was in too great a hurry to wait forher,
but that - ho had left a sixpence to pay for
herbreakfast.
She sat down composedly to that meal,
and forced herself to partake with apparent
appetite the food set before her. She ap
peareduneonscious of the eyes whiehotrith
deep scrutiny, were fixed upon her.—
When the meal woe over, she toook leave
of the family, and went on her way, with
out the least appearance of discomposure
or mistrust. She bad proceeded but a
short way when she was joined by two
strapping looking women ; one look was
sufficient to convince her that they were
the young men ; and one thought, to assure
her that she was yet in their power, and
on the very verge of destruction.
They walked by her side, entered into
Conversation, asked her where she was
going, and told her that their road lay the
same way; they questioned her as to where
she had lodged the night before, and made
most minute inquiries about the family in
habiting the house of entertainment. ller
answers were quite unembarrassed ; she
said the people of the house appeared lobe
decent and civil, and had treated her very
well.
For two hours the young men continued
by her side, conversing with her, and
watching w jilt the most scrutinizing glances
any change in her countenance, and asking
questions which, had she not been 'fully
self-possessed, might have put her off her
guard. It was not until her dreaded com
panions had left her. and she saw her
husband coming along the road to most
her, that she lost self-command, which she
haik" successfully exercised, and throw-
Mg herself into his arms, fainted away.
( Life is brief; let all therefore endeavor
to uweeten, not poition the cup.
TWO DoLaud PER ANNUM.
!NEW SERIEW-N 0.6.
A litle more than two hundred years
ago a few pilgrims, after being tossed by
the tempests upon unktiown seas, dung to
the western shores of the Atlantic ocean,
They were for the most part persons who ,
had known the comforts of life in its
lion
lorable walks, and had been reared where
plenty smiled. But the comforts of life,
the smiles of plenty, and r3wards of hon
or were left behind. Destined by fate to
a nobler sphere, their bosoms swelling
with great thoughts and great hopes, they
sought a wider liberty among the tumbling
billows and careering winds of a strange
ocean, and upon the difficult mountains of
a virgin hemisphere. Now the seed of
those heroic tacit and women are number
less, almost as leaves of the forest, and
have built tip a great nation, the like of
which never before existed upon the face
of the earth—a nation yet only the germ
of what she is to be ; whose eagle, steadily
gazing upon the sun, yet rises with untir
ed pinions and courageous speed. towards
the empyrean. Iler loundations werelaki
upon the principles of universal justice
and phlanthrophy,. and the dews of hest.
ven have fallen thick in blessings on her,
Who through n cloud,
Not of war only hut Jetractioilei rude r -
Guided by ruins and inatclikeA fortitude,
To peace and truth her glorious way hoe plotigh'd,
And on the neck of crowned ti rtune proud,
Brest read God's trophies a oi.l his works pursued."
It is a touching, ahnost a sublime spec
tack, to behold this young people giving
alms to the Old WMId. When we were
weak and hungry they levied taxes of our
substance, and took us hence to be tried
by unfriendly juries. Their messaggs of
charity to us were shill loads of armed
men to make war upon as and subdue us/
We now bestow upon them a magnani
mous and Christian retribution. An old
classic fable relates that a Hainan virgin,
whose sire was doomed to starvation in
prison, kept him alive by milk from her
own breasts. lie "rendered hits hack the
debt of blood borne with her birth." The
story has proved prophetic, and has been
fully verified by the streams of holy char
ity which young America bestows on aged .
Europe. We have before shown ourselves
worthy to meet her in battle, but she with
drew her baffled armies scoffingly. In
literature and oratory we have shown our
selves not unworthy of comparison with
her, but she passed us by as an unprofita
ble acquaintance, without
At length we have found a way by which
the hearts of our people speak unto the
hearts of another, as deep calleth unto
deep, and the great fountains of European
feeling nre broken up. Not a breeze that
sweeps the Atlantic but comes freighted
with the incense of deep gratitude. All
old Memos of hate arc nt once overshad
owed as by the white wing of an angel.
Is not this trimnph of humanity as' far
above the paltry triumphs ,of diplomacy
and of :wins as the sublime heights m God's
glory are above the defeated and plotting
spirit of evil ? Our birth as a nation was
signalized by a written Constitution, which
calmly asserted the rights of men t it Was
a column erected in the wilderness, but
conceived with such breadth ofintellect and
grandeur of sentiment as soon brought the
philosophies and governmental arts of the
civilized world to gaze upon it and render
homage toits merits. Our noblest triumph
under that constitution is a triumph of reli
gion, of eharity, of love. shall we not
have strength of vision to behold in these
our auspices as a nation I Turning away
from these, how can we consent to grdvel in
the low arts of intrigne and the vulgar
Emcee of brute force f
TAKE 'EM few days ago at the
rendezvous of Capt. Chase in Tenth Ward,
a woman with a chubby child in her arms
appeared and demanded a eight at the offs ,
cer ; Lent. Coodloc presented himself.—
"so, sir you've clapped your dirty aOjer
trappings on my husband, have yifir ,
"who is your husband, madam," de•
mantled the Lieutenant.
"Billy McMurtee, and a boold boy he
in, no plane ye. But it's a dirty -thing to
you, my pretty man, to take him from his
wife and children."
"Cun't be helped," Bald the Lieutenant,
"it's too late now."
"Then take the baby, too," cried,: the
woman, as she forced the child into the
arms of Lieut. "Take 'em alt, I'll
semi you four more."
OW she fan at a rapid pace, leaving the
unfortunate Lieutenant with the new re
cruit equalling in his arms, Doubtless of
its value to Uncle Sam, he aunt it home by
the father.—ein. Corn. .
THE KENTUCKIAN IN Bosuns,--The
Louisville Journal tells the following good
one: A few weeks ngo a well known
master mechanic of this city, who was so•
journing a few days at the Trenton House,
Boston, walked into the dining niom at
the summons of the hell, rind seeing in the
long row of chairs one that was turned up
against the table to indicate that It was ap.
propriated to sonic particular individual he
deliberately took it and commenced his
dinner. In about five minutes a young
dandy in whiskers and moustache, walked
up behind him and remaaed inn supereil•
ions tune :
"Sir, you have got my plate."
..liave I?" said Jim, carelessly. "well
you are perfectly welcome to it," handing
empty soup plate over hie shoulder.
A loud laugh ensued, and the mania the
moustache brat a precipitate retreat.
TRAVELLINO. - 4 strong; laity &HOW,
who preferred begging to work, - celled ott
a gentleman in the city, and asked trig meld
victuals and clothes. The man asked
him what he did for a living:
"'Vet much," said the hilowtoeloier
travelling."
"l ' rnvelling l Then you can treeerpiet! ,
ty well r
"Oh, yes," said die bagger. al t ati`rogy
good at that."
"Well. then, " said thigettOtatefittOullY
opening the do or, lens erstgreatifeittel,"
Threes alias) thou sugiu. loom h)
from homo—iho ash ONO -101,11hiltefr
the housewife. • , , •;