1 -' ....... . 1 " inn The whole art ok Government consists 'in the art of beino honest. Jefferson. VOL 5. STROUDSB URG. MONROE COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1845. No. 39. PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY SCIKOCII & SPERltfG. tfijMS. Two du'lm per annum m advance Tun iiniinrc anJa quarter, halt yearly arid if not piid before the end of Viie year, i wo couar aim a nan. inose wno reccue tlicir paper ov a camur M siugc umuia ciupiuj-eu uy me propne tors, will be Charged 37 1-2 cts. per year, extra. So paicrs discontinued until all arrearages are paid, except irvAihcrtisements not exceeding: onesnuare f sixteen linrvo will te inserted three weeks for one dollar : twenty-five cents nrercry suusequeni insertion : larger ones in proportion. A liaeral discount w iu ue m.iuu u jcuny auveners jrjAll letters addressed to the Editors must be post paid JOB PRINTING. Having a general assortment of large elegant plain and orna me.iuii ijpe, we arc preparea 10 execute every description of Cards, Circulars, Bill Heads, Rotes, Blank. Receipts, JUSTICES, LEGAL AND OTHER BLANKS, PAMPHLETS, &c. rrintei with neatness and despatch, on reasonable terms AT THE OFFICE OF THE Jcffcrsonian Republican. FOR THE JEFFEKSON1AN REPUBLICAN. Lines on Genesis xv. 13. The watchful eye of God, Descries my secret soul, Marking the paths I've irod, E'en to life's uncertain goal. The eye that never sleeps, Heaven, earth, aid hell beholds, The ocean's wave and boundless deep, And nights dark gloom un folia. That eye with mildness beams On every child of grace, ! And yields to blissful scenes, Where faith and hope shall cease. Where age and death are not : Where trial cannot come ; Where griefs are all forgot, And joys are ever young. That eye with scorching ray, On every sinner looks, And points him to the day Of wither'd, blasted hopes. When justice sent abroad, ,. . By an almighty hand, Arrests the rebel on his road, Of every clime, and land. When fear the heart shall fill, When God himself shall mock, , While wrath and soier ill The rebel's soul shall shock. 0, may 1 bend the knee Before that sleepless eye, "Thoo God" that "seest me," Be thou forever nigh. We request particular attention to the following ithy address, which we extract irom the uoston tl fin A ?n it snmplhinrr anrnmn Iv lnlnroclinir at (past n iniriKS inc ... - i ., o j j, KISTER. Come A, B, C, D, E, F, G; And pay your billsj sirs, honestly, Both for the old year and the new , , Then, sirs, a happy year to you. H, I, J, K, L, M, N, 0, We want our money don't be slow; Pray, do not let us ari: again, Or spend our time and ink in vain. P, Q, R, S, T, U, and V, Our cash we would be glad to see ; . . If you our just demands will pay, We'll wish you well on New Year's Day. W, X, Y, Z, and all the rest, Come forward now, and do your best ; Come, pay the Printer all you owe He'll happy be, and wish you so. Take Notice If you do not pay,' May you be troubled every dayr May conscience never give you peace, Till you to be our debtor cease. But if in answer to our call ; You promptly pay us one and all '"r May you most prosperously thrive, in eighteen hundred forty-five. Cutting Reply. A beautiful Jewess attended party lately in New York, whe'ie she Was ex- ively annoyed by a vulgar, impertinent fellow. 'And you never eat pork, Miss tit 1" asked he, 1 trth .. 1 Never sir," was the reply. "Nor use lard l" continued the persecutor. "No sir," she answered, "our religion teaches s to avoid every thinrr- swinish, physically and ; uiereiore you win excuse me ior auuu- '32 ativ mum .. .,.1 ..,:.i. m Kcitliicky in '76. A LEGKXD OF TIIK BLOODY GROUND. BY DR. ROBERT E. LITTLE. We do not love these ancient ruins, We never tread upon them but we set t Our foot upon some revered history. The flood of time is rolling on; We stand upon its brink, whilst they are gone To glide in peace down death's mysterious stream. Have ye done well 1 They moulder flesh and bone, Who might have made this life's enamoured dream A sweeter draught than ye will ever taste, I deem. Shelly. l All who are conversant with western history the historv of that nnrind in TTontnpl.-v nr thn 'Dark and Bloody Ground,' as it was formerly j called, so replete with danger and misfortune to j the hardy pioneer from the ambuscade assalts of the wild and revengeful Indian have heard of the old Boonsborough Fort.. Not a trace now remains of this renowned safehold from the inroads of the I savajje even the magnificent elm under whose wide-spreading branches the venerable Lythe was accustomed to send up his voice in humble accents to the God of his fathers, a monument of other ages, which for centuries had reared his head and dared the fury of the elements, has yielded to the influence of time, and disappeared from its accient seat; but the waters of the same river which wash ed its base, and wafted onward the light bark of the Indian warrior, rolls on with calm and peace ful waves as in former days; 'the waters of the same spring from which the devoted few slaked their thirst, now supply the wants of the neighbor ing farmer; and the same hills which overlooked the fort in towering sublimity, and afforded a lurk ing-placeor its enemies, now yield tich pasture to the lowing herd. Within the last fifty years, the aspect of the whole scene has changed : here, where nature's ancient domain was undisturbed here, where the hunter fatigued himself in pursuit of the deer and buffalo here, where the forest re-echoed from hill to hill with the howling of the wolf and the pan- ther, and the yell of the savage, are finally culti- vated fields teeming with the. produce of the farmjj pastures displaying their cultivated verdure; herds of cattle breathing life to the surrounding hills, and the hum of busy man coming cheerful upon the ear. For the last time has the warrior launched his frail bark upon the noble waters of the. Ren -tuck-ee; for the last time has he sent forth among its blue hills the war-hoop, so terrifying to the de - fenceless settler; here, for the last time, has he been appalled by the workings of the Tempe3t- king, and never again will he bow down on its banks in supplication to the Great Spirit. His doom is sealed: he is retiring before the influence of civilization, as the darkness of night before the . . . ... .... . . mominjrsun. liut his name will live in the noble ; state to which he gave a title, as well in the nu- merous stories of adrenlure similar to the one j about to be related. In the Spring of 1775, a year memorable alike for that struggle by which we were enabled to throw off the yoke of British tyranny, and for the difficulties experienced by the emigrant in his ef forts to subdue the hitherto impenetrable and in hospitable region of Kentucky. The Boonsbor ough'Fort was erected on the south bank of the river, as a defence against the incursions of the northern Indians, who were jealous of the whites, justly fearing that the hunting grounds purchased by the blood of their fathers would be torn from therri, that farms would be erected upon their graves, and they themselves hunted down like the beasts of the forest, and compelled to seek other homes. . For several vears after its erection the outrages ! perpetrated indicated that it was their determine-1 tion to destroy the different stations, and tlu'.s en - dcavor to prevent the further settlement of the country. Among other settlements, Boonsbor-! ough suffered severely, having vithstood a siege ; of nine davs, carried on by a superior force of! French and Indians. Our story commences un- mediately after the siege, when" the garrison was much weakened in point of numbers, and when it was dangerous to appear oulside the picketing, as the savages, were concealed in the neighboring thickets, always ready to fire on those who were so unfortunate as to be thrown in their way. The early settlers of Kentucky were composed of emigrants principally from Virginia and North Carolina men who with their families had left their native firesides and sought a house in a wild and unsettled country, with its attendant toils, pri vations, and dangers, which were of no ordinary pharacter a race of men who arc fast passing away They were brave and energetic, fearless of danger their best friend was their rifle, as it was their constant companion for years, both in the field and the chase, While not unfrequeiitly the forest was their couch, with no covering saye the vaulted heavens above. Calculating selfishness Oho usual consequence of mcrgn.g from a forest to a refined state of life,) is not one of the traits of character transmitted to their posterity. Brave and magnanimous on the field of battle courte ous and hospitable at home, the Kentuckian of the present day fully maintains the reputation of his ancestors for all that is great, noble and good. Although sixty-eight years have passed away since its erection, there still may be seen a small log building on the right of the road leading from the village of Richmond to the ferry at Boonsbor ough half a mile from the latter place. Its di lapidated appearance, crumbling stone chimney and moss covered roof, indicate it to have been j the residence of one of the pioneors of the coun-! try and such it was. But every thinn immedi- i I ately about it the fallen trees the luxuriant un- j derormvth and thr mimhprlnSR hrinr hushns. tpll , of its desertion and neglect while the bleating of the sheep and the lowing of the cattle as they feed upon the rich fields of clover in ihe distance the running to and fro of men in the corn and harvest field, bespeak the activity of the hand of improvement. Years ago, and this was the habi- talion of John Cameron, a native of' South Caroli na, but of Scorch descent. Among the first emi grants who had settled in Kentucky, he assisted in building the fort, but shortly after its completion, being weary of the restraint attendant upon the number of families living within the enclosure, determined to make a 'clearing' and erect a cabin at a short distance from the fort, so that in case of disturbance he might retire to it for protection. During its investment by the French and Indians, he sought refuge in it, and from some cause or other, his improvements escaped the incendiary torch of the besiegers, so that upon the retirement of the main body he again ventured out, notwith standing the advice ot those who were well ac quainted with their treachery. The Cameron family consisted of the father, mother, son and daughter. A succession of mis-! fortunes had induced them to leave their native State and brave the dangers of a pioneer life, with the hope of being able, in the course of time, to retrieve the past. Though in moderate circum- I stances, the hospitality drew around their fireside the best society of the neighborhood, while not a few were attracted by the charms of the daughter Edith, as lovely a girl as sported in all the buoy- ancy of youth on the banks of the glassy Pedee. A love for our native land is common to all but by none isfan absence from it more poignant ly felt than by the young and unexperienced. Home ! happy home! away from it we are con- , stantly wandering in imagination to the spot most 'dear to us on earth memory paints to us in vivid colors the scenes of youth tbe rocks the blue hills and the forest around the place of our birth, j Days of our youth ! days of innocence and delight , which pass off as sweetly as the dew from the leaf j under the warming influence of a .May day sun 1 i i.i t it i i when passeo mey never can ne rccaueu ana then, only then, do we realize the truth of the des- tiny of the boy in the fable who wandered from home in search of contentment when in- reality i he had exiled himself. An anticipated departure from childhood's abode is scarcely less painful than the reality. The eyes of Edith Cfimeron filled with tears as she seated herself nt the foot of the hillock frotn which issued the stroam of wa ter whence she was accustomed .o draw the daily supply. The next day's risiD sun would behold her preparing to leave thos scenes where she had spent the happiest period 0f her life perhaps nev er to visit them. J we rippling brook Us banks ! bedecked with svest flowers and the moss-j covered arbor "uder which she delighted to seat : herself at te hour of twilight, and weave those webs of anticipation so delightful to the imagina tion, of vouth would be left behind' The clear starlight of a southern sky flashing through the derue forest, and the music of the woodlark would jbe remembered only with the past. With such j anticipations as those need wo say that the girl wept tears of regret. Edith's companion (for she had one) was a youth some twenty-two years of age, of robust frame the image of health and maniy vigor, r rum earnest iwiunuy mey imu uueu associates had attended the same school and read from the same book he had been her defender from the rudeness of the other boys, and in turn for his gallantry he was always permitted to at tend her to her father's gate on their return from school. Their friendships, as they grew older, ripened into lovebut never until the evening re ferred to, had William Hervey ventured to speak of the secrets of his heart. The moon was high in the heavens etc they parted that night. What passed between them need scarcely be told they were affianced vows were plighted before heav en and he was to follow the Cameron family to the wilds of Kentucky in the course of the suc ceeding spring. An interval of a few months must be passed over. The family arrived safely at their new home, improvements were made, and the arrival of Younrr Hcrvev wa expected. He at length padc his aPPcarrnccxaud again thcio was rejoicing C3 J w under the humble roof of the settlers, although in the midst of danger, and every moment liable to an attack from their savage enemies. Late in the autumn the marriage of Edith and Hervey was to be celebrated The appointed day rolled round, the company assembled, and the blazing of the huge maple and hickory wood fire, as it reflected its light upon the rude ceiling imparted an air of comfort to the well-filled building. The bride ar rayed in virgin white, leaning upon the arm of the groom, made her appearance silence prevailed the aged minister, his hair silvered by the frosts of many winters, approached and began the-cere mony which was to unite the young and happy couple in bonds to be severed only by death when yells fierce and terrific were heard without. A moment more, and a score of disguised demons forced the door; but the astonishment and awe in to which those within the house were thrown gave way, and their assaults were met at the threshhold with a determination not anticipated by life swar thy band. The females retired to an inner room for protection, while the men defended the doors. As the entrance to the house was narrow, the whites had the advantage, although in point of number they were less than the Indians. Warri or afler warrior fell back dead upon those in the rear, until tho Indian force was much weakened. For hours the strife continued with unabated fury; hope on the part of the whiles had almost fled, when suddenly the Indians retired from the con test, and left them in possession of the house. The whole party (now weakened by tho loss of three of the stoutest hearts that ever beat) again assembled to finish the ceremony which was in terrupted before its conclusion, and consulted as to the future Having determined to abandon the. place and retire to the fort they were upon the eve of doing so, when their foes returned to the assault with renewed energy, and with more suc cess. In the thickest of the fight appeared a tall war rior, towering above the rest, he seemed to be the leader of the band. Brandishing his hatchet, he made his way into the midst of the whites and seizing the almost inanimate form of Edith, bore her in his arms to the door in safety. A scream of misery burst from the lips of the groom and his friends when it was perceived that he had gained the open space, as they knew it would be madness to fire upon the savage, protected as he was by his senseless burden. Followed by tho rest of his band, the warrior disappeared in the recesses of the forest. Pursuit was determined upon. Reinforced by a party from the fort, the younger Cameron and Hervey, within half an hour after the retreat of the savages, were upon their trail. For nearly twenty-four hours the Indians did not venture to delay a moment, knowing that instant pursuit would be made. Upon the evening after the bat tle, the pursuers caught a glimpse of their foes as they were ascending a hill half a mile distant from them. They wisely determined not to risk an en gagement until night, when by stratagem they might be able to succeed with less danger to them selves. The Indians halted at dark, but as if anticipa ting an attack, their fires were extinguished in the gloom. The nighl was dark and stormy the moon failed to shed its rich and genial influence over the scene ; and the wind whistled through the forest fearfully. No bird of omen warbled its mournful notes in token of its loneliness not even the murmur of the distant waterfall as it fell from rock to rock, from the mountain's top was heard the wind alone broko the stillness of nature. The darkness prevented them from making an at tempt (as it was first agreed on) to rescue the prisoner it was determined to wait the first dawn of day, at.d make the onset while they were yei oinnmnn- T hfl whites were nine in nuuiotii while the Indian force amounted to fourteen. The Indians did not take the precaution to bind closely their prisoner, so that upon the first dis charge of the rifles of the pursuers she was ena bled to disennge herselt Irom tho corus wun wiucu she was bound, but before she had gained her feet her captor stood dyer her, brandishing his war club which he Had snatched from the hand of ano ther as he waWsfng from the ground. Instantly the keen eyefof Ilervey recognised the savage, and lovolfiphis gun he fired. Tho ball pierced the Indian's forehead, who leaped from the ground and fell dead. In quick and rapid succession the rest of the party fired again and again until the Indians, jperceiving their diminishing number, ! tLc.t i,aot lnavinnr lip.hinrl their cuns made aliasty retreat, leaving behind their gun and othWinstruments of death, Infuriated at the cruelty of tho savages, the whites pursued them for miles ; two fell from fatigue and were despatch ed by the hatchet, while the third, desperate from the numerous wounds received, coming to tho Licking where the banks wore high and abrupt, determined to sacrifice himself rather than to fall under the knife of the white man, and precipitated himself into the bounding stream and perished be neath its wave. Thus died the last of tho band of .. - if ftfiill Ml ill" fffif ff- - . tAfa&'f , - rffr- irt r Tl . , -Sl&fr?" .: ..r-J. w-A. . - the brave but cruel chieftain Ki-o-da-go. The party returned from the pursuit without an accident. Ilervey and his wife, afler the cessa tion of hostilities and the death of their parents, which occurred shortly afterward, removed somo distance into the country from the river, arid but a few years have elapsed since they yielded up in peace, their spirits to God. Their descendant. are numerous, ai.d to this day they recount to thejr children the scenes of the ' Bridal Eve.' This is but one of the incidents with which the ' " Dark and Bloody Ground" is rife. Scarcely a clearing there but had its legend. At our day it is difficult to believe all the perils to which onr fa thers were subjected, or the privations which the mothers and daughters of Kentucky endured." " What o'clock is it?" When I was a young lad my father called mo to him that he might teach me what o'clock it was. He told me' the use of the minute finger and the horn hand, and described to me the fig ures on the dial plate, until I was pretty perfect i in my part." No sooner was I quite master of this additional knowledge, than I set oflj scampering to join my companions at a game of marbles: but my father called me back again. " Stop, Humphrey," saict he, "I have something else to tell you." Back again I went, wondering what else I had got to learn, for I thought I knew all about the , clock quite as well as my father did. " Humphrey," said he, " I taught you the time of the day ; I must now teach you to find the time of your life." All this was strange to me ; so I waited rather impatiently to hear how my father would explain it for I wanted badly to go to my marbles. " The Bible," says he, " describes the years of man to be three score and ten, or four score years. Now life is uncertain, and you may not live a day longer; but if we divi.de the four score years of an old man's life into twelve parts, like the dial of a clock, it will allow almost seven years for every figure. When a boy is seven years old, then it i3 one o'clock. Should it please God thus to spare your life, looking at the clock may perhaps remind you of ;t. My great grandfather, according to this calculation, died at twelve o'clock, my grand- ' father at eleven, and my father at ten. At what hour you and 1 shall die, Humphrey, is known on ly to Him to whom all things are known." Never since then have I heard the enquiry, " what o'clock is it !" nor do 1 think I ever looked at the face of a clock without being remindod of the words of my father. I know not, reader, what o'clock it is with youT but I know very well what time it is with myself and that if I mean to do anything in this world which hitherto I have neglected, it is high time to set about it. The words of my father have givort a solemnity to tho dial plate of a clock, which it never would, perhaps, have possessed in my esti mation, if those words had not been spoken. Blanket Sheets. We have often heard newspapers compared to, blankets, but we nover knew that they could be used for them.' A correspondent of the London Times says, two sheets of double imperial brown paper, pasted at tho edge to form one (and at a cost of less than six cents,) if laidover a bed with one blanket under, will produce more warmth than three ordinary blankets, or over a single coverlit, will be warmer than one blanket only, and will last, with a little care, a whole winter. Philad. Gazette. A young clergyman having buried three wives, a lady asked him now he happened to be so lucky. " Madam," he replied, " I knew they could not live without contradiction, so I let them all have their own way." Tho Devil is married sure enough ! He's caught' a Shad 1 Tho papers chronicle the marriage of Mr. John Devil to Miss Elizabeth Shad. Rot in tbe Fotatoe. A correspondent of the Cultivator furnishes the following remedy for tho rot in the Potatoo a disease very prevalent in this section for the two last years, and which has destroyed ve ry nearly one half of this valuable crop. 4 For some years past,' says the writer, 'I have used laked lime, which I iprinkle on the potatoes as they are cut for seed, and shovel them over in it and plant thorn immediately. Since I have adopted ihia plan, for tho last year or more, I have not lost a potaloe, either in tbe ground or after they are put in the cellar : and such of my neighbors as follow my example, are alike fortunate, and in no way troubled with the tot.' We rocommend to the farmers in this vicinity to trv the experiment the ensuing spring. W An old lady once remarked that the most healthy eoraol.for the waist was a husband's arm.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers