Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, September 07, 1847, Image 1

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VOL XII, NO. 36.
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[From thn linickmbocker.)
If the poor mar. pass thy door,
Give him of thy bounteous store;
Give him food, and give him gold,
Give him shelter from the cold;
Aid him his lone life to lire,
For 'Lis angel-like to give
'though world riches thou butt tot
Give to him of poorer lot;
Think thee of the widow's mite
In the Holy AlAwrzit's night,
It was more, a thousand
Than the rich mates hoard of gold,
Give ; it iv tho better part ;
Give to him, the .poor in heart;'
Give of love, in large degree,
Give of hope and sympathy ;
Cheer, to them who sight 'forlorn,
Light, to hint whose lamp is gone.
Give the gray-haired wanderer room
Lead hint gently to the tomb;
Let him not in friendless clime,
Float adown the tide of time;
Hear the mother's lonely call,
She, the dearest one of all.
And the lost, abandoned ono,
In thy pathway do not shun;
hif thy kindness she bath need ;
Bind with bunt the bruised reed
Give, and gifts above all price,
Shall be thins; in Paradise.
THEY tell me that Monterey is beau
tiful, that it lies among the snow white
mountains whose summits reach the
It sleeps beneath us now.
While the moon, parting from the I ;
white mountain tops, sails in the serene
upper air, we still stand among the trees I
of the Walnut Grove, and behold the I.
slumbering city.
These trees, beneath whose leaves we
stand, speak of the ages that are gone.
So massive in their trunks, so wide
spreading in their branches, so luxuriant
in their foliage. The moonlight trem- ,
bles through the quivering leaves, and
reveals the rich garniture of the soil.
It blooms with tropical fruits and flow
ers. Around the quiet columns of Wal
nut, the jessamine and the wild rose,
the lily and the orange blossom, spread
their tapestry to rainbow dyes. The
air is drowsy with excess of perfume, I
and from the shadows flash the moun
tain streams, singing their midnight an
thems, ere they plunge below.
It is the grove of the Walnut Springs
in which we stand ; a grand cathadrel of
Nature, whose pillars are walnut trees, 1
five hundred years old, whose canopy is
woven leaves and vines, whose baptis
mal fount is the pure mountain spring,
whose incense is perfume, that intoxi
every sense, and whose offerings
are flowers, that bewilder the gaze with
their fresh, their virgin beauty.
And from the grove, by the light of
the moon, we gaze upon the city—that
Amazon Queen, who reclines so royally }
among her warrior mountains.
It is a city of singularly impressive
features that reposes yonder. To the
North, to the South, to the West, the
mountains rise, girdled with the tropi
cal fruits and foliage, and mantled, on
their brows, with glittering snow. On
the East, green with cornfields, 'and
beautiful with groves of orange trees,
spreads a level plain.
Those orange groves seem to love the
s,city of the royal mountain, for they gir
dje her dark stone walls with the white
blosamsr and hang their golden fruit
a b o ,, e her battlemented roofs. From
t hi s ( 4eVated grove, toward the South,
around•the sleeping city, winds the beau
tiful rifer of San Juan, now hidden
among meg rannte trees, now sending
a silvery' branch into the town, again
onward betide its castled walls.
Below it, with its roofs laid bare to
the moonlight, we behold each tower
and dome o f the mountain city. It is a
place of narrow streets, and one storied
houses, witf: walls and floors of stone.
Above each level roof rises a battlement
breast high. The streets are crossed by
huge piles of masonry, and the whole
town presents the appearance of an im
mense fortress, linked together by bands '
of stone, adorned with gardens, and
gloomy with towers of rock and steel.
Far to the West, a huge step, crown
ed with a mass of stone, seried with can
non, cast its heavy shadow—a long belt
of blackness—over the town. That is
the Bishop's Palace.
Here before us, Eastward of the city,
the outlines seen above the river, and
the groves of orange blossoms, three
castellated piles rise clearly in the air.
Yonder, on the North, glooms the Mosa
ic citadel. Titus girded by defence of
stone, iron, and steel ; thus sheltered by
its mountains of fruits and snow, the
city of the Royal Mountain may well
seem impregnable.
Yonder, towards the South, among its
houses of stone, you behold an open
space, the grand Plaza of Monterey.
There rise the Cathedral towers, rearing
above their peaks and dome of snow,
the golden cross into the light of the
moon. Look! how it glitters above the
town, smiling back to heaven.
It is thought impregnable, this moun
tain city. No arms could take it; nu
cannon blast its impenetrable walls.
The Bishop's Palace on one side, and
three forts on the other, and the citadel
on the North, the river on the'East and
South; it is shut in by stone, by water,
by iron, and by flame.
And yet, not' many months ago—sit
by me, while the moon shines over the
city, and I will tell you the story—there
came to the grove, an old man, mounted
on a grey charger, and clad in a plain
brown coat. Over the mountains that
frown toward the East, through the ra
vines that darken there, he came, fol
lowed by six thousand men. He en
camped in this grove of walnut trees,
and the arms of his soldiers shone gaily,
from the white waste of orange blossoms.
He stood were now we stand, he gazed
first upon his men, his horses? his can
non, and then upon the city, which,
though it smile to us, in the light of the
moon, gloomed in his face, by the beams
of day—froni every roof, and rock, and
tower—with one deadly frown.
The old man saw it crowded by nine
thousand armed men. He saw every
roof transformed into a castle, every
street blocked with piles of masonry,
the steep height of the Bishop's castle,
formidable with its death array of can
non and steel, the Cathedral, with its
cross and image of Jesus, converted into
a magazine of gunpowder—a silent vol
cano, that only wanted the impulse of a
military spark, to make it blaze and
And yet the old man, after his silent
gaze, turned to his brother heroes, among
whom Butler, and Twiggs, and Worth,
of.waving plume, stood prominent, and
said, in his quiet way "the town is be
fore us. We will take it."
Then every soldier in that army of
six thousand men, took his comrades by 1
the hand and said, "if I hall, swear that
you will bury my corse !" For every
heart felt that the contest must be hor
rible and deadly.
The horses of the prairie, the men of
Palo Alto and Resaca de In Palma, were
there.--Mingled with these iron soldiers,
you might sec the men of Mississippi
and Louisiana, Tennessee and Ohio,
Kentucky and Texas. The farms and
the workshops of the American Union
had heard the cry, which shrieked from'
the twin battle-field of Palo Alto and
Resaca de la Palma, heard it, and sent
forth their beardless boys, their grey
haired men to the rescue. The sugar
and cotton plantations of the South, the
prairies of the North, the mountains of
Pennsylvania, the blue hills of Kentuc
ky, 'that dark and bloody ground,' the
massacre fields of Texas, all sent their
men to swell the ranks of the new cru
sade. The same banner that waved over
Bunker Hill, and Saratoga, and Brandy
' wine, from the walnut grove, flashed the
light of its stars over Monterey.
The fight began on the twenty-first of
September, 1846, and trucked its bloody
course over the twenty-second, and did
not cease its howl of murder, when the
sun went down, on the twenty-third.
You may be sure that it was horrible,
this battle of street and square, of roof
and cliff, of mountain and gorge. It
was a storm, hurled from the mouths of
musket, cannon, and mortar, wrapping
cliff and dome in its dark pall, and flash
ing its lightning in the face of sun, moon,
and stars, for three days: You may be
sure, that the orange groves, mowed
down by the cannon's blaze, showered
their white blossoms over the faces of
the dead—that the San Juan, sparkling
in the morn, like silver now, then blush
ed crimson, as if in shame, for the hor
rible work that was going on. That
nothing but shots, groans, shouts, yells,
the sharp crack of the rifle, the deep
boom of the cannon, was heard through-
nut those three days of blood. That in
the battle trenches, lay the dead men,
American and Mexican, these silent
groups, swelled every moment by new
corses, looking with glassy eyes into
each other's faces. That many a beau
tiful woman, nestling in her darkened
home, was crushed on her white bosom,
by the cannon ball, or splintered in the
forehead, just above the dark eyes, by
the musket shot.
And amid the fight, whether it blazed
in volumes of flame, or rolled in waves
of smoke, you may be sure, two objects
were distinctly seen—the white plume
of the chivalrous Worth, and the fami
liar brown coat of stout Zachary Tay
It was on the morning of the 21st,
when the rising sun shone on the
groves or orange and pomegranate, the
fields of corn, and the girdle of rocks
and caves, that encircle the mountain
city, that, suddenly, a mass of white
smoke heaved upward from the ravines,
yawning about the Bishop's Palace, and
rolling, cloud on cloud, wraps those
towers in its folds, and stretched, like
an immense shroud, along the Western
Beneath that smoke, Worth and his
men were commencing the battle of
Monterey, on the West of the town.
At the same moment, around those
forts on the East, a cloud of smoke arose,
it swept away towards the citadel, and
soon melted into the cloud on the West.
Under its pall, Taylor and his men
were advancing upon the town from the
North and East. Thus the city of the
Royal Mountain was girdled by a pall of
battle smoke; and thus from opposite,
sides of the town, Taylor and Worth
fought their ways of blood towards each
driving nine thousand Mexicans,
with AMPUDIA at their head, into a cen
tre of death and flame.
Night came and went again, and still
the fight went on. One byone the three
batteries on the East fell before the arms
of Taylor. Over the impregnable heights
of the Bishop's Palace waved the banner
of the stars. The city saw not a glimpse
of blue sky, for in the air hung a canopy
of battle-cloud, and over the roofs the
gunpowder spread its pestilential mist.
There was neither food, nor rest, nor
shelter anywhere. God pity the women
then, who, shuddering in cellars, and
burrowing in dark rooms, clutched to
their breasts the children of their love.
In the Cathedral no prayer was spoken,
no man sung the deep anthem, or waved
from censors the snowy incense. The
image of Jesus, was wrapt in the battle
cloud ; that divine face for once seemed
to frown. Mild Mother Mary above the
altar, as clad in a robe of ~Itolce, and her
sad and tender face grew lurid ghastly
with gleams of battle flame.
The're was no rest for the sole of hu
man foot, no slumber but the slumber of
the bloody ditch, or dark ravine. None
slept but the dead. And still from the
West, the cannon of Worth hurled their
message to Taylor on the East, and ever
and anon the cannon of Taylor thunder
ed their reply. Nearer grew these sounds
to each other, and closer in the fiery cir
cle, Ampudia and his Mexicans were
hemmed. Over the roofs, through the
battered houses, beyond their battered
barricades they were driven by Worth
and Taylor, until the battle gathered to
one point, and . above the main plaza,
where the moon shines so calmly now,
on Cathedral and Cross, hung the accu
mulated cloud of three days' agony.
And to the grove of the Walnut
Springs, where at this hour the moon
breaks in tender light, on each massive
tree and perfumed flower, the battle
mangled were brought to bleed and die.
The sod spreading so thick with blos
' sorns all around us, grew purple with a
bath of blood. Hearts that once had
quivered to the pressure of a woman's
bosom, were frozen in this grove, and
eyes that had looked tenderly with the
eyes of life, mother, child, grew glassy
1 beneath these Walnut leaves.
" Strange sail on the weather bow,"
cried the look out. In a moment Capt.
Sternport was intently gazing on the
stranger through big telescope.
After a few moments steady scrutiny,
he muttered through his compressed
teeth, " Not strange to me, those raking
masts, that peculiar build—ha !" we
shall have warm work presently ;" pi
, ping all hands with a calm countenance
A DEFINITION.-" John," inquired a and unwavering voice, he exclaimed—
domain of a hopeful pupil, "what is a "My men, if eyesight deceives not,
nailer 1" "A man who makes nails," this craft nearing us at every knot, is
said John. " Very good. What is a the dreaded Ocean Devil, commanded
tailor 'I" "One who makes tails. " by a fiend in human form. As we may
you stupid fellow !" said the dominie, ' expect no quarters, we must give none ;
biting his lips, "a man who makes tails!" ; our only chance is desperate resistance
" Yes, Master," returned John, " if the ' --so a few minutes for preparation, and
tailor did not put tails to the coats he then—death before surrender of our
made they'd be all jackets !" "Sit down, glory.
John, you're an honor to your maternal ; Three hearty cheers responded to the
parent." • captain's characteristic speech ; and the
! crew silently betook themselves to pre
;pare for stern defence.
Fred, who had never been in action,
felt the anticipations of the melee tingle
. But, amid all the horrors of the fight,
the Mountains yonder—like calm De
mons, impenetrable to the yell of slaugh
ter, or the howl of agony—lifted their
snowy tops, and shone on, whether light
ed by the sun, or moon, or stars, or bat
tle flush.
ED.- 4May I B 1 of the lovers of U,'
us the Miss of 6 teen said '2 u 10 der
leg of mutton II 1 she 8 a piece of it.
" SPLITE my old shoes, you piratical
son of a gun—do you mean to hang out
signals of disobedience, eh 1" cried, In a
speaking trumpet voice, the choleric old
Commodore Kockbote to his nephew
Fred—just rated midshipman on board
of the gallant craft, the Blazeway.
"Why, not exactly, Nunicey," replied
the latter, in the careless expression in
dicative of the emancipated collegian.
" Not exactly You swab, if 1 had
you aboard of the old Catandine, shiv
er my topgallant sales if I would'nt
give you a round dozen—a pretty way
you begin the sarvice, don't you know
that a sailor's only duty is obedience."
"Reasonable obedience," quietly in
terposed Fred:
Reasonable Fiddlestick. I'll bet a
can of flip to a cup of dishwater, you've
been cramming your figure ahead with
metaphysics and polydevelments instead
of useful knowledge."
Fred was about to reply, but the jolly
old Commodore, who certainly had a
good heart, though a curious method of
showing it, interrupted him, by thun
dering out.
Belay your jawing tackle you shark
spawn ; and let me pay out my line.—
You're my brother's son ain't you I"
"I have been led to believe so, sir,"
said Fred.
You are you whelp of a sea frog,
you are, so don't interrupt me any more,"
roared the Commodore.
Fred acknowledged the parental com
pliment rilently.
'Nov, anchor in that chair, dutifully,
for a few minutes, or damn me if 1
don't send you to sea in a washing tub.
You know that I've promised to make
you my heir, eh 1"
" I'm grateful, sir-"
" Don't talk. You know the condi
tion 1"
" Yes, sir ; that-"
" Hold your tongue. "gll hoist the
signals, and you dare to disobey them,
that's all. In my voyages on the ocean
of life I've scraped up a pretty decent
sum. Fred, my hero, all shall be yours;
but damme you must marry my ship
mate Crosstree's daughter."
" , Never, sir," cried Fred, starting to
his feet. " Never ! sooner would I beg
my bread from door to door, an outcast
and a wanderer, than give this hand
away without my heart," and with a
look of unutterable determination, lie
left the apartment.
"A noble young scoundrel, by Jove,"
said the choleric old Commodore, "but
I can't forgive him."
With a merry breeze filling our white
sails, on we dash through the white crest
of the yielding wave. Not a sale breaks
the vast round of the horizon ; we arc
alone upon the deep—alone, but not
The glad porpoise races with us; up
raising ever and anon to see what way
we make—the unwieldy whale gambols
in the distance ; the scared flying-fish
pursued through the sea and air exhaus
ted fulls upon the deck ; the rapacious
shark keeps in our wake superstitious.
Fred Kokbote, now some months in
the service, stood leaning over the tail:
rail, gazing with enthusiasm upon the
broad expanse, as wave, dashed up with
wild embrace against the vessel's prow,
and the joyous wind sung its greetings
through her cordage, he exclaimed:
"There's freedom and gladness in the
glorious sea!"
his check with intense excitement, reti
ring to his berth, to write a letter to his
uncle, although they had parted on not
the very best terms, yet he could not
bear running the risk of leaving the
world without soliciting his forgiveness.
He had scarcely finished his letter,
when the noise on board proclaimed
that the pirate had approached sufficient
ly near to show her intention. Rushing
upon deck, Fred observed the fatal black
flag, floating dismally from her mast
head. A nervous sensation shook his
frame ; 'twas but for a moment, buck
ling on his cutlass, and placing a pair
of pistols in his girdle, he calmly await
ed the coming fight, crying :
"Beloved flag of my country, nerve
my arm and steel my heart."
The pirate craft had now approached
near enough to discern that her decks
were absolutely crowded with savage
looking men, of every variety of chine
and color. The swart African, the cup
ping Malay, and the sanguinary Lascar,
stripped to the waist, they seemed more
like a crew of demons, than of human
Suddenly a white cloud burst up on
board of the pirate, and accompanied by
a shot flew hurling over the frigates
"No harm done that time, you pirat
ical vagabonds," cried Tim Tafrrail,
standing by his gun, ready and anxious
for the command to fire.
An instant after, having got the pirate
in good range, the word was given, and
the whole broadside sped towards her.
When the smoke cleared away, what
was the astonishment on board the frig
ate, to see the graceful mast of the beau
tiful schooner, topple over and sink into
the deep ; a terrible yell of agony an
nouncing that some other calamity im
pended. Ere long it manifested itself ;
a heavy black smoke issuing from the
She's on fire," cried some score of
voices simultaneously, "and the pirati
cal crew are taking to their boats."
" She must have a quantity of pow
der on board," said the captain. "About
ship, quick then, my men."
aye, sir."
And the frigate answered her helm
like a thing instinct with life—and
strode away from danger.
It was a magnificent, though awful
sight to see the now uncontrollable ele
ments sweep through the pirate schoon
er, the miserable remnant of her crew,
crowding the boat, and looking like
dark specs in the sheet of flame.
" Poor miserable wretches there they
go to their dark destiny," ejaculated the
captain, as with shrink of despair, the
overladen boat foundered, and sunk in
stantly with its guilty load, just at the
same moment, with a fearful explosion,
the schooner was shivered to atoms;
there was a jet of intense brightness a
roar of a thousand guns, and then—a
frightful silence. A dense cloud hung
for a while over the doomed ship like a
pall and finally dispersed, leaving the
frigate alone on the waters.
Humanity is ever the accompanying
attribute of valor. Captain Sternpost
gave orders to man the boats, and pro
ceed to the spot where the doomed ship
went down, for the purpose of rescuing
the unhappy wretches, if any there
were, surviving the rage of the united
elements, fire and water. The com
mand of boats devolved on Frederick,
and with a soul saddened by the fear
ful sight he had just witnessed, he pro
ceeded on his search ; for some time
they rowed around the spot without
success, when Fred thought he obser
ved something in the distance, having
the appearance of a human form, he
found his expectations verified, there
was a man in the water. With one
hand he convulsively grasped a hencoop,
and with the other, supported the young
and insensible form of a beautiful fe
Speedily rescued from that perilous
position I red carried them in safety on
board of the frigate.
Never could he take eyes from the
pale, inanimate, but lovely face of the
rescued female, as if spell bound he sat
and drank in he intoxication of those
charming features ; he loved with sud
den, reckless,and overwhelming passion.
They had not been long on board
when, by the application of stimulants,
the beautiful rescued was sufficiently
revived to be conscious of surrounding
The joy of her companion was un
bounded. "My darling child," he ex
claimed, "thou livest and here is our
gallant preserver." A faint blush over
spread the. palid feature of the lovely
WHOLE NO. 606,
" Then how can I thank him for pre
serving thee, dear father," she tenderly
" And, now sir," said the stranger,
" let me know the name of him to whom
.1d Bob Crosstree shall be forever grate
" What did you say your name was 1"
cried Fred anxiously.
" Crosstree !"
"Shipmate of old Admiral Kokbotel"
"The same!''
" Propitious fate, I thank thee !" ex- -
claimed Fred.
With a favorable breeze, the gallant
vessel sped on her way homeward bound.
Glad hearts were on board, but none
more so, than were the hearts of Fred
and Emily, fur their affection was mu
tual, and they knew that no obstacle
could stay their happiness.
Fred imagined how delighted the old
Commodore would be, and with the con
sent of Emily's father, concerted a plan
which would not only surprise his un
cle, but preVent the possibility of the
wind changing in that quarter, which
was neither more nor less than to be
married at the first port, and proceed,
spliced to the old Commodore's house.
The plan was pursued, the ceremony
solemnized, and in due course, Fred ar
rived at old Kokbote's a little in advance
of his relations.
Rushing into the presence of his un
cle, Fred was about to give the:old boy
a heavy embrace, when the Commodore
stayed him saying with his usual sten
torian intonation :
• " Avast there, you young lubber !
You have no place in my log unless you
have profitted by service, and come
home obedient. Will you marry Emily
Crosstee 1"
"No, sir, I won't," bluntly answered
Fred: "In point of fact I can't."
" Can't ! you unnatural porpoise, why
can't you 1"
" Because I've married her already !"
"No !"
" Upon my honor !—and here she is,"
introducing Emily and her father.
The old Commodore forgot his gout
—all Commodores have the gout—and
danced a complicated shuffle in the de
lirium of the moment.
And the details of the story how
Crosstree and his daughter were taken
by the Ocean Devil, how the frigate at
tacked her, how she went down, how
they clung to the hen coop, and all col
lateral contingencies, formed an accom
paniment to the old Commodore's after
dinner pipe for many a day.
head, the %' ashington correspondent of
the New York Herald says :—Some ten
or twelve years ago, a company of New
York merchants inspected the flat lands
on the other side of the Potomac, with
the laudable intention of founding, op
posite the city of Washington, a new
commercial city, to be entitled Jackson
City, or the City of Jackson. The main
channel of the river passes by the oppo
' site shore, and that circumstance was
depended upon as all sufficient for a new
Babylon or Alexandria. It was not
thought of for a moment that Alexandria
lay on the same side of the river, seven
miles lower down, and that Georgetown
would cut off the interior trade, by be
ing two miles higher up, on the other
side. Jackson City was founded and
jchristened, and laid off and tae corner
' stone was laid by General Jackson ; and
George Washington Parke Custis, our
j good old friend of Arlington, made the
corner-stone speech, to a large assem
blage of people. We have now the
melancholy intelligence to relate, that
not a single house has been erected in
Jackson City since its foundation—not
a lot bought by the speculators—but
that on the other hand, the very corner
; stone of the city has been sacriligiously
j broken into, and plundered of its news
-1 papers, parchments, charter, coins, and
medals, and the last we hear of the cor
ner stone is, that it has been carried up
into Fairfax county, where, at the last
advices, an old negro was pounding
homminy in it. And thus ends the his
tory of the great commercial city of
TILE BACIIELOR.-A man who passes
through life without marrying is like a
fair mansion left by the builder unfinish
ed. The half that is completed runs to
decay from neglect, or becomes at best
but a sorry tenement, wanting the addi-
tion of that which makes the whole
useful. Your bachelor is only the moity
of tkman, sort of garnish for a dirh,
or a prologue to a play, a bow without
the fiddle.
WEAK SlDE.—Every man has his weak
side, and it is often the best part of the