Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, November 04, 1846, Image 1

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VOL. XI, NO. 42.
The "Jounisat." will be published every Wed
nesday morning, at $2 00 a year, if pnid in advance,
and if not paid within six months, $2 50.
No subscription received for a shorter period than
six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar
rearages are paid.
Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be
inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse
quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are
given as to the time an advertisement is to be continu
ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac
(17 V. B. PALMER, Esq., is authorized to act
04 Agent for this paper, to procure subscriptions and
advertisements in Philadelphia, Now York, Balti
more and Boston.
Philade/phia—Number 59 Pine street.
Ballimere—S. E. corner of Baltimore and Cal.
sort streets.
New York—Number 160 Nassau street.
Boston—Number 16 State street.
• For the Huntingdon Journal.
I love to stand alone and view
'The Heaven's bright and varied hue,
As slowly sinks the setting sun,
His fixed, unvarying journey done;
i On gentle streams reflecting fire,
Painting with gold the village spire,
O'er Nature throwing mellow light,
Until at last it fades to night.
The sportive flocks row seek their home,
'No more the verdant hills to roam;
The herds now leave the grass-clad plain,
.And seek their quiet homes again;
The swift-winged swallows cease their flight,
• To pass at rest the peaceful night ;
The shepherd seeks his cottage door—
His daily care and labor o'er;
'the busy wife attends with care,
The frugal supper to prepare;
White dancing on its father's knee,
A smiling, rosy boy you see.
'!'he humble, healthful supper o'er,
To God above their praise they pour—
One song to Him who ruled " the past,"
And all retire to rest at last.
To deep with careless hearts they go,
That sleep earth's „ rich one's" never know.
. I would that thus it were my lot,
To live in some wood-shaded cot,
'Mid rural joys this life to spend,
Shared with some dear and constant friend.
ficX.rixonore, Po. Z.
111 TRADDItiII W. 111E11311.P.
The desire to do evil is not so often
engendered by want or created by the
• mad hallucinations of deep affliction, as
it is made by the heart—the black heart,
which is its own destroyer; and which,
enclosed in a well clad form, or render
ed more apparent to the superficial eye
by an outward show of rags, is all the
same—a bad monitor, prompting to crime
and sowing the seeds of wretchedness
wherever the soil of human weakness,
or worldly credulity offers an unbroken
surface to. the wicked seedsman. The
owner of a black heart never escapes
consequence of his derelictions.—
Sootier or later the wrath of offended
4iisfice prostrates the unfortunate crimi
nal, and leaves to those who have been
spared the curse of natural depravity, a
• dreadful monument of warning.
Black is the heart that can frame a
woman's ruin; doubly dyed in wicked
nesii is the mind that, regardless of the
li6liest human obligations, can falsely,
o by inuendo, and disingenuous insinua
tion, soil the name of a virtuous female.
SUch hearts and minds are legitimate
prey—their eradication, the meed of
duty, and a heavenly task.
With swelling veins and quickening
pulse, have we often listened to the fol
lowing tale of retributive justice, rela
ted by a venerable South Carolinian.
In a small village, in a State that Ma
rion has rendered famous, dwelt a young
man of property and position, named
Saunders. With every blessing that
renders life aught but a burthen, Saun
ders was the most restless, unhappy and
unamiable person in town. His whole
study was deceit—his pleasure the gam
ing table—his delight the pursuit of fe
niale loveliness. No character was pure
f as far as this licentious man was con
cerned. By the force of his social po
sition, he gained access to the best soci
',eV? and seemed on terms of the greatest
hitinittcy with all the ladies in the vicin
ity. ; and as he was prepossessing in per
sonal appearance, and gifted with an in
tellect which ranged far beyond the or
' dinary estimate of talent, his company
was sought by many a fair demoiselle
• and dame. Notorious for his wicked
„propensities, he ought to have been
bhuane4 by every thing that bore the
imprint of humanity ; but there is some
thing unaccountable in the foibles and
,whims of poor human nature; and as
the moth flutters about the flame after
Its wings are singed, so act we in things
In every village there are always more
belles than one, as well as rival factions
in favor of males, who claim the right
to lead the fashions, and set the tastes
and opinions of the miniature communi
ty of which they form a part. By the
gad-flies, and would-be-gay fashionable
people, all that Saunders said and did,
was emulated. He drank wine until it
got the better of him—consequently he
and his companions often became intoxi
cated. He gamed deeply ;so did his as
sociates. All his vices were copied,
while his few minor virtues (spears of
grass in a desert of sand) were suffered
to remain unnoticed. The sensible por
tion of the inhabitants despised him,
and pointed to a poor young lawyer
named Wright, as the model of a moral,
honest, industrious, well-meaning man,
whose heart was in the right place, and
in the horizon of whose future were stars
of brilliant promise. As a natural con
sequence, Saunders hated Wright, and
urged his companions to insult himwhen
ever the proceeding would be a measure
of safety. These insults, up to the time
' to which we are about to refer, had been
few, for several reasons, viz : The par
ties rarely met, inasmuch as Wright
never frequented the village pot-house,
and of course did not join the numerous
extravagant pleasure parties made up by
the wealthy enemies. The most of his
leisure time was spent at the cottage of
a beautiful young girl whom he ardently
loved, and whose condition in life, hum
ble as his own, offered no obstacle to
their union. Saunders had never been
able to make the acquaintance of Mary,
although he had, at a dinner, publicly
sworn to accomplish her ruin. She had
always manifested disgust of his char
acter. His name had never passed her
lips, save when coupled with an expres
sion of dislike for him.
" Saunders can vanquish any girl in
the village save Mary Buridon,"was the
common assertion, jestingly made,when
his gallantries were brought up as mat
ters of conversation. Thus matters stood
in December, of 18—
It was a cold—a bitter night. The
snow was unusually deep for that re
gion, and the frosty air pierced all the
woollen the careful and thrifty house
wives could heap upon their sons and
husbands. in short, the weather was
so cold, that a sleighing party, compo
sed of Saunders and his clique, had
abandoned their project of going out,
and settled themselves comfortably be
fore the broad and comprehensive fire
place in the bar-room of the village
" Hurrah ! To the ladies who were
to have gone with us to-night," said
Saunders, merrily raising a glass of
punch to his lips.
The toast was drunk uproariously,
and the noise had hardly subsided, ere
the door opened to admit young Wright.
Had a congreve rocket entered the room,
greater astonishment could not have been ,
depicted on every countenance. Glasses
were unceremoniously set down, and in
quiring glances were rapidly thrown
from one revelier to another, so palpa
ble that Wright must have noticed them.
However, he very quietly took his sent
at a tenantless table, in a dark corner of
the apartment, and then disencumbered
himself of all his outer travelling gear.
" Landlord," said he, " I have never
been here before, and my unlooked-for
appearance, for my own sake ought to be
accounted for. I have attended the Cir
cuit Court, about 10 miles distant, and
walked the whole way back. Almost
frozen, I thought to get here, what I can
not obtain at my lodgings,a cup of mulled
Silently the landlord executed the or
der. Wright pulled some documents
from his pocket, and without noticing
any one, began to read. In a few mui
utes the revellers recovered their equili
brium, and called out for more liquor.
"As this weather would delight an
Icelander, but is rather out of place here,
suppose we make a night of it 1" bawl
ed one of the Saunders toadies.
" Agreed !" shouted the voices unani
" Aire ! we can go to bed when we
are tired of each other's company," re
marked Saunders.
" Only one event can make the night
endurable here—the appearance of a pret
ty woman"—said.a burly roue at Saun
ders' right.
" Now to sting this misanthrope fool
yonder," whispered Saunders. He con
tinued in a loud voice—" Woman, pshaw!
There is but. one woman in this village
that is worth a thought."
" Who is she V' chorussed the bac
"Mary Buridon."
"She's invulnerable," said one. "She
has no heart. She is utterly bereft of
soul and sentiment."
"No soul ! No sentiment I" exclaim
ed Saunders. " There you are mista
ken. Not many hours since I met her
near her father's house, and had quite
an interesting tree-a-trim as her French-
man of a parent would say. Before I
left her she honored me with a kiss !"
"A kiss 1" was the general interrog
atory shout.
Wright's face blanched as white as
the paper in his hands, but he said no
"He's romancing," said the burly
roue ; " don't believe a word of it."
"On my soul and honor, I speak the
truth," responded Saunders, emphat
"Perjured villain !" ejaculated a deep,
but tremulous voice behind him.
" Who spoke 1" fiercely demanded
" I did 1" said Wright ; calmly ad
vancing to the centre of the apartment.
" Did you apply those words to me,
sir I" inquired Saunders.
"I did."
" Then you are a scoundrel and a
coward, and I will have your heart's
Everybody rose sobered from the ta
ble, and gathered around Saunders.—
Wright was the first to speak.
"You have told me what you will do ;
Now listen to me. You have dared to
lie to the discredit of a virtuous young
lady—her name has been bandied about
by your drunken companions, as if she
were a creature as vile as yourselves.—
You have profaned that name in a low
and disgraceful manner, and unless you
repair those injuries, you shall be pun
"Punished 1" almost yelled the liber
" Punished !" said Wright firmly.—
" Unlets you now, and at once confess
yourself a liar, and retract what has
been spoken, you shall give me satisfac
. I will not retract, and I cannot fight
" Why not 1" • .
"Because you are not equal to me in
social position—because you gave the
first insult, and I do not choose to re
cognise it from one beneath me."
A death like silence pervaded the
apartn3.ent. Every man's breath was
drawn with a hissing sound through his
clenched teeth. Wright reflected a mo
ment and then, while his eye gleamed
with passion, he asked, in husky tones,
"will you fight 1"
"I will have nothing to do with you.
For the language you have used, I will
have my revenge when and where I can
get it."
"Miserable coward, take that !" ex
claimed Wright, throwing a brimming
tumbler of hot punch full into Saundcr's
"Enough !" muttered the latter be
tween his clenched teeth. " I have chan
ged my mind. Name your time and
place, I accord you that privilege."
"The time now!—the place HERE !-
the Weapons THERE !" replied Wright,
as he produced a brace of pistols.
The company stood aghast. They had
trampled on a man whom they had mis
taken for a milksop ; and he had proved
a lion in courage, as well as a Napoleon
in firmness. •
" This may do very well for bravado,"
said Saunders' burly friend ; " but you
do not pretend to say that we should
turn this place into a slaughter house."
"Hark ye !" said Wright, in a man
ner which showed that he was weighing
every word, "for years this man has
carried dismay and misery into the peace
ful family circle. Month after month
he has followed the pastime of tradu
cing the character of unprotected fe
males. He has at least villified the only
one I love on earth ; she who is to become
my wife. I know well enough that un
less this slander is formally retracted
she is ruined in the estimation of at
least half the community. All the hap
piness 'I hope to enjoy upon earth is
centered in her purity. If lam killed
her fate will not be more deplorable than
at present. Therefore, Mr. Saunders
must retract, or I will fire upon him."
Mute inquiries were exchanged—in
decision and fear were marked on each
face. Saunders mechanically outstretch
ed his hand and took one of the pistols,
looked around the room as if for advice,
and then replacing the pistol on the table,
said, "I am in the hands of my friends."
"Fight as I propose," said the burly
Without seeming to fully comprehend
the remark, Saunders nodded assent,
and ‘N right immediately agreed to set
tle the matter in any method the roue
might suggest. "'this, then, is the
plan : You shall each fire at that spot
in the wall opposite. He who strikes
nearest the centre shall have the first
fire nt his antagonist at six yards." •
The echo of the last words had scarce
ly died away before Wright fired at the
mark. Breathlessly they waited for the
smoke to clear away.
"He is an inch wide of the spot,"
said the burly man coolly. " Now Saun
ders, it is your turn."
With trembling sinews Saunders rai
sed his arm and fired. A crash of glass
followed the report. He had missed the
wall and shattered the window three
feet wide of the spot indicated.
" Gentlemen, stand apart !" exclaimed
They all gathered behind him, leaving
the enemies w;'h about the space of six
yards between them, and face to face.
"Mr. Saunders, your life is mine by
all the ties of honor, but I waive my
right to take it, provided you retract
your false assertion.
"No," groaned Saunders, "I dare not
do that. Murder me if you will—l can
not disgrace myself."
"Some one count three," was Wright's
rejoinder, "and I will fire when he is
," One ! two!"
"Do not say THREE !" shrieked the
coward, falling on one knee, and shield
ing his head with outstretched hands.
Do not say three! I defamed her—l'
retract—She is as pure as my own sister!"
Without saying another word Wright
left the tavern. The next morning, un
able to bear his humbled condition there,
&mars departed from the village, and
his companions, deprived of their leader,
settled down in a very short time into
respectable members of society. Wright
and Mary became man and wife—of
course. The old gentleman who rela
ted the subject of this sketch afterwards
saw Wright on the floor of Congress.
There is no wrong so skillfully wrapt
in rphistry, or protected by the machi
nations of the individual who commits
it, but must at some period meet the
avenging stroke, while he who persists
in right must surely meet his merited
I reward.
The Printer is the most curious being
living. He may have a " Bank and
quoins," and yet not be worth a cent—
have SMALL cars, and have neither wife
nor children. He may be making im
pressions without eloquence ; may use
the ley without offending, and at the
same time be telling the truth; while
others cannot stand when they set, he
can set standing, and even do both at the
same time; have and use furniture, and
yet own no dwelling ; may make and put
away pi, and never see a pie, much less
eat it during life; may press a good deal,
and not ask a favor; may handle a shoot
ing iron, and know nothing about a cm
non, gun or pistol ; he may move the
lever that moves the world, and yet be
as far from moving the globe as a hog
with his nose under a molehill ; spread
sheets without being a housewife; he
may lay his form on a bed, and yet be
obliged to sleep on the floor; and use
the dagger without shedding blood, and
from the earth handle the stars; he may
be of a rolling disposition, and never
desire to travel; he may have a sheep's
foot and not be deformed; he most al
ways holds a stick, but it is not wood ;
never be without a case, and know no
thing about law or physic; be always
correcting his errors, and grow worse
every day ; have em-braces without hav
ing the arms of a lass thrown around
him ; distribute the metallic all around
him daily, and be as close-fisted and un
charitable as the veriest miser ; have his
form locked up, and still be free from
jail, watch-house, or any other confine
ment; his office may have a hell in it,
and not be such a bad place after all ; he
may be plagued by the devil, and be a
Christian of the best kind. And what
is stranger still—be he holiest or dis
honest, rich or poor, drunk or sober, in
dustrious or lazy—lie always stands up
to his business.
DEFINITION.—An investigation was
held the other day by the directors of a
school, into the conduct of some of the
teachers towards the scholars. Among
the witnesses examined, was a bright
little fellow about 10 years of age, who
was asked whether he thought his teach
er was "partial 1"
"No, air, he ar'nt," he answered
promptly enough.
" Do you know what partial means 1"
" Of coath I cloth," said the young
rogue, quite indignant at this imputation
upon his intelligence.
" Well, what is it 1"
Vy, if he wops all the boys like
thunder, and wops 'cm all alike, I does'nt
call that 'partial,' (loth you 1"
SCIENCE.-" A frog," says Professor
Pump, "is an amphibivous hanimal, as
wot !jokers on cold water, and conse
kvcntly invented the tee-total society.
He always walks with a jump, HE does ;
and when he sits down has has to stand
up, HE has. Being a lover of native me
lodies, he gives free concerts every night,
HE does, himself. He perwides "music
for the million," which has been so call
ed because it is usually heard in a mill
pond. He is a %varmint wot hain't so
bad when briled un a ,riddle, no sir-cc!"
The following letter, written to Bish
op Doane, by Commander Engle, of the
U. S. Steamship Princeton, gives a thril
ling account of the burning of the ill
fated brig Truxton. The extracts from
Coin. Engle's letter commences when
the Princeton arrived off the bar, in
sight of the wreck:
" I stood in, and anchored in five
fathoms water; as close as I could ap
proach with safety, and where I could
send a shot through and through her,
and throw my shells on shore, if neces
sary. I immediately sent Lieut. Boggs
on shore with a flag of truce. He cross
ed the bar of Tuspam, through a surf
that would cause the stoutest heart to
quiver; at times his boat was almost on
end. Still, by his guidance, she cross
ed it like a duck.
" I directed Boggs to inform the com
manding officer on shore,
that I would
permit no one to visit the brig until my
boats had been on board ; and that if he
fired on them I would land and attack
him. Boggs then pulled for the brig.
The surf was so high lie could not get
on board, so he returned to the ship.
That night the wind blew; it stormed
and rained. Next morning I took a
boat, went in and examined the bar,
sounded round and about it, and found
the surf too high to send the boats.
Towards mid-day it cleared up, the swell
went down, and the surf appeared less
angry. At the desire of the officers, I
manned the boats; with directions; if
there was the least danger, not to cross.
Our boats are first-rate, and my officers'
second to none. They pulled in with
the boats. I directed Lieut. Boggs to
lead, Lieut. Rowan to follow, and Past
Midshipman Stiles to remain at the out
er edge of the surf, to assist, in case of
accident, the crossing boats. The boats
closed, and the officers consulted at the
• entrance of the surf. Lieut. Boggs said
' —"I can cross !" Lieut. Rowan said—
' "I'll follow!" I was at the mizzen top.
' My glass was on Lieut. Boggs. At times
his boat could not be seen. Need I tell
you of the anxiety I felt at this moment'
' In an instant, an officer at my right cried
out, "Rowan is capsized!" His boat
was struck by a sea on the larboard
• quarter, and broached. Another sea and
another knocked her over, and over and
over; and once I looked on all as lost;
' for few men escape a capsize in a surf.
I knew by examination, that the current
in the river was strong enough to carry
' out the boat. For this reason I sent a
; third boat to lie at the edge of the surf.
' The men clung to the boat. At the first
roll, sonic were caught under her. Lieut.
' Rowan cheered his men, and one .of
; them in particular assisted him. They
drifted out. I saw them receiving
. aid
from the third boat. I maimed other
' boats, and sent them to their assistance.
" Well, the question now was, 'who
were lost V I was in great distress.
To lose men in a fair fight is expected ;
but to lose them by surf and sharks, is
horrible. I sent a small boat, and di
rected the officer, in case Rowan was
safe, to pull off his hat and cheer ; and
if all was safe, to throw up both hands.
Could there be a nobler sight, than a
gallant officer with hat off, and arms ex
tended to Heaven, as a signal of safety,
informing his shipmates, at the distance
of a mile and a half, that all were safe ?
My heart was not in my body. It was
in my neck mid choking inc. I lay down
in the top, till I recovered myself. Our
yards, rigging and top, were full of men,
silent as dentin, until I gave the word,
are safe.' God only lcnows how,
for some of them could not swim. The
surf was so high, that the third cutter
could not go to hem, but had to wait
till the current drove the boat and crew
through it, seaward. There were six
teen on board each boat.
" And where is Boggs all this time I
He got safely through; hint before he
could get his boat seaward he was within
pistol shot of about 50 men, with mus
kets ready to receive Where is
the white flag V said he.—Search was
made, but none to be found. Who has
a white shirt Our sailors dress in
blue. I have,' said the boatswain, who
stands about six feet two inches, built
in proportion, a splendid looking fellow.
In a moment, a fathom of it was stream
ing from a boat hook. Boggs pulled up
boldly, and jumped ashore, shook hands
with the officer, and told him that he
came by order f the Captain, to thank
him for his kindness to the crew of the
Truxton; and to say to him that Inc
would not fire on the shore, unless he
fired on ins ; if he did, lie would laud
and go up to Tuspam, a town six miles
up the river. Boggs then pulled for the
brig, but could not board her, so he re
turned to the ship. The officer on shore
told him, that lie thought three bouts
rather too many to come on shore with
a flag of truce. So 1 thought myself ;
particularly, an as each boat had 32
WHOLE NO. 562.
pistols, 16 bowie knives, and 16 carbines
on board.
" The next day, at meridian, I sent
two boats under command of Lieut.
Boggs, with directions to board the brig;
and, if she was not bilged, to send down,
and throw overboard, her yards, for us to
pick up, as they floate d then to
set her on fire. He
inch shells with I
the 52d of Augu:
stein to stern. .
I never saw! IVI7,
which were below',
flew, and the flame
an hour or so, away giTenirr main and
mnintopmast, headlong into the feduning
surf! Then all eyes wore on the fore
mast, which hung on for upwards of an
hour longer, when it followed. Fine
spars! which had assisted it bringing
the remains of the gallant Porter from
a Mahomedan to Christian country; to
rest, under the flag he had fought for so
The 119.11 that, the Mule Kicked,
Many are the anecdotes and stories
which our volunteers tell, the scene of
which has been the Rio Grande, and
many yet remain to be told. The fol
lowing good one was yesterday related
to us, says the New Orleans Delta, by
our friend, Sewell Taylor :—On a cer
tain starless night, in the latter part of
July, two volunteers—living editions of
Damon and Pythias, so sincere were
their friendships, so mutually strong
were their attachments—were sitting on
some lumber in the neighborhood of
Sewell's (the Sutler's) tent. They had
given pretty strong proofs during the
day of their abhorrence or the water of
the Rio Grande in its primitive state, by
mixing with it a liberal component part
of Sewell's brandy, which, as Burns
says, made them " unco happy." They
sat there for a considerable time, and
talked of "old times" and new times—
of times past, present and to come—of
the indomitable courage and invincible
pouter of the United States volunteers,
and of the cowardly, craven Mexicans.
Indeed, from the mood they were then
in, "they could," as they expressed it,
"walk into Ampudia and his whole pu
sillanimous host !"
One of them had occasion to with
draw for a few minutes, and after making
in advance due apology for his tempo
' rary absence, he assured WI; friend that
little time would elapse before he would
rejoin him. Not returning, however,
as soon as his friend thought he should,
the latter "putout" too, Be who first
left, soon, in a zigzag course, returned ;
but instead of going up to where him
self and friend had been sitting, he ap
proached to where a vicious Mexican
mule was haltered. ,
"Come, Bill," said he, laying his
hand on the hind quarter of the mule,
"let us go to our tent." " Wee-ee-ee,"
cried the mule letting fly the left hind
leg at him, striking him in the abdomen,
and sending him on the broad of his
back in among the neighboring chap
parral. After recovering, he picked
himself up, and adVancing again towards
the mule, said, " Look here ; Bill, this
is d—d shabby conduct ! I wouldn't
treat a Mexican so, letting alone an old
comrade. If you have any spite against
me, just say so, and I'm your man ; but
don't strike a fellow that way, with the
butt end of your musket in the dark.—
I. tell you, I felt that lick just as if a
dragoon's horsehad kicked me. Come,
now, no more of that—let us shake
hands"—and again he went up within
kicking distance of the mule.
" Wee-ec-i-ee," growled the mule, and
again lie gave the intruder a kick, which
laid hint flat on the ground.
"Murder ! murder !" he cried, " I'm
shot—l'm stabbed—he has run his bay
onet through ine—he has broken my
head with the butt end of his musket—
I'm shot—l'm killed ! Guard! Rounds !
Grand Rounds !"
Attracted by tho ,noise, a crowd in
stantly gathered round ; lights were
brought, and the Great Kicked was
piitked up out of the chapparrul. Two
of his ribs only were found to be broken,
and his friend and comrade, Bill, was
Elie lirst to render him assistance. Of
course, although he could not at the
time be made to believe it, it was at
once seen that his enemy in disguise
wns the peevish mule, and not his friend
and comrade-soldier, Bill.
fl We saw a hot roast goose in Gra•
• vier street, yesterday, says the New
Orleans Delta, and, like the pig spoken
'of in the nursery tale, which cried out,
" who'll eat me'!" no one seemed anxious
I for a slice of it. Reader, this indiffer
ence will be understood when wo say
; that it was a tailor's goose !
D - 11l qualities arc catching, as well
as diseases, and the mind is. at least as
much, it not a good deal more, liable to
infection than the body.
[tll sight