Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, July 04, 1848, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

THROUGH the open window,
As a welcome comer,
Breathes upon my forehead
The warm breath of summer.
The old forests murmur
In the fragrant air;
Leafy elves are telling
Their sweet love-tales there !
And the rivulets ramble
Through the meadow grass,
To the bathing flowers
Singing as they pass !
In the fairy concert,
With sweet notes and high,
Gentle birds are thrilling
Music in the sky !
Through the opening furrows
Gleams the rushing 'share,
While the plough-boy whistles
To the listening air !
All is love and labor,
All is merry song—
May the days that follow
Swell the chorus long!
The Search after Rest
When first the Dove, afar and wide,
Skimmed the dark waters o'er,
To seek, beyond the heaving tide,
A green and peaceful shore.
No leafy bough, nor life-like thing,
Rose 'mid the swelling main—
The lone bird sought, with faltering wing,
The hallowed Ark again.
And ever thus man's heart hath traced
A lone and weary round ;
But never yet, 'mid earth's dark waste,
A resting place hath found.
The peace for which his spirit yearns
Is ever sought in vain,
'Till, like the Dove, it HOMEWARD turns,
And finds its God again.
Removal of Mr. Mitchell.
The Dublin Freeman contains the fol
lowing account of the departure of Mr.
Mitchell : " Precisely as the prison
clock struck four (on Saturday after
noon) the convict-van drew up at the
front entrance of Newgate, and was im
mediately surrounded by two squadrons
of dragoons under the command of Col.
3launsell and Col. Gordon. In a few
minutes on official, bearing the warrant
of Mr. Mitchell's removal, entered the
prison and delivered the same to the
high Sheriff. The mounted police and
dragoons, with drawn sabres, formed
four deep round the van. The door ha
ving been opened, Inspector Selwood
gave the word at the prison gate " all
is ready." One of the turnkeys then
came forth with a bundle of clothes,
which were understood to be the convict
dress, and threw it into the middle of
the van. Precisely at 8 minutes past 4
the gates were opened and Mr. Mitchell
came forth with a firm step and a firm
demeanor. He wore a brown frock coat,
light waiscoat and dark trousers, and had
a light glazed cap upon his head, the
hair appearing to be closely cut. His
hand and right leg were heavily mana
cled, and fastened to each other by a
ponderous iron chain. lie cast one quiet,
dignified glance about and recogni
zing a friend who called out " Mitchell"
bowed and shook hands with him. He
was then assisted into the van, accom
panied by four or five inspectors of po
lice. The door was immediately bang
ed to, and the cortege moved forward at
a double quick trot up Bolton st, and
thence by the circular road to the north
wall, where the Sheerwater government
steamer was lying in readiness."
The cautions taken to prevent any at
tempt at rescue on the way to the place
of embarcation were effective. There
was, however, some rioting at Sevile
place, on the North strand, where the
olice were assailed by a mob, the chief
leaders of which were women. One am
azon was conspicuous by her daring.—
She hurled brickbats and stones with
unerring aim at the heads of the con
stabulary, cursing lustily the cowardice
of the men at Dublin leaving the fight
ing to the women. All the efforts of
the police to effect her capture were
useless, and she finally escaped in the
crowd of combatants.
A few hours after the sentence, the
prisoners c2uncil, who, during the trial,
had been Are than once stopped iu his
line of defence, by the judge protesting
that he was using language no less in
flamatory and sedicious than that for
which the prisoner was on trial, rose in
court to repeat and justify all he had
said. "My Lords," he observed, amidst
the utmost silence, "I wish now to state
that what I said yesterday I adopt to
day as my own opinion. I hero avow
all I have said ; and perhaps under this
late act of Parliament Her Majesty's At
torney General, if I have violated the
law. may think it his duty to proceed
against me in that way. Be this act as
it may I now assert in deliberation that
the sentiments I expressed with respect
to England and her treatment of this
country are my sentiments, and I here
avow them openly."—" Call on the next
case" was, of course, the only reply of
the Court to this declaration, and the or
dinary business was proceeded with,
[From the United Irishman, May 27.]
These are solemn days. We are
walking on the brink of an abyss ; fath
omless yawns the chasm before us ; if
our hearts sink, if a nerve trembles, we
fall and perish ; if, on the contrary, our
souls be brave, and our steps rapid, we
will come forth from the danger trium
phant. In these days cowardice is fol
ly, and courage is wisdom. The man
who shrinks from his post, and pins
' himself to his lady's apron string, must
meet the dog's death which he deserves;
but whenever a dauntless heart be beat
ing, be sure God's angels are watching
there. For two brave men who fall on
the battle field, fifty cowards are slain.
Valor is a very Ajaxs-hield, and:he who
possesses a bold spirit has a never fail
ing talisman. What is the grandest bi
ography that man can aspire to 1 He
lived a brave man's life.—What is the
sublimest epitaph which can grace his
tomb 7 He died a brave man's death.
The coward breathes his last on a bed
of down, with low whispering voices in
his ear; the patriot falls across a barri
cade, and is dragged through mud and
street filth—but the memory of the one
dies with his body, while the other, en
tering a tomb, ascends a throne, and
rules us from his sepulchre.
The time. It is . a steel-toned era.
Not the age for silvery tones and mea
sured sentences. Not the age of retho
ric skill arid tricks of fancy. The strong
thing is now the only true thing.
The time. It is a glorious age. Old
Earth sways to and fro, rocked hither
and thitherb y the storm-breath of de
mocracy. That great Lazarus—the peo
ple—has come forth from his tomb. The
sleeping warriors are awakened. The
clash of their swords is the death-knell
of tyranny. And when all the nations
are advancing in a " rythmical march,"
shall we not keep the step 1 Dress up
your ranks, fall in, and follow !
The time. It is no poectic, rainbow I
hued, golden age. No gentle, sweet
voiced sovereign rules the world. Our
only king is in the sword. At the flash
of the patriot's steel the torch of free
dom can alone be lit.
This is not the time for beggars' pe
titions. No more prayers; no more
whining; no more dying in the ditch
side; no more patient and persevering
canibalism ; no more soup-kitchen pa
ternity ; no more of the grim farce, in
which two millions of men, with red
blood in them, and something resembling
a soul by the grace of the devil and the
advice of their pastors, bid farewell to
the sun and committed suicide ; no more
of that gentle " law" which, like death,
levels all distinctions, and places a high
; souled patriot in the same filthy cell
with a common burglar and a swindling
Jew : no more of the licensed scoun
drelism of pompous magistrates—which
the other day consigned one of our best
friends to a felon's prison, for walking
through the streets of Dublin with his
friends ; no more of that accursed mock
ery, cal led " government," which has
trampled into sterility every good seed
of truth, and honor, and courage, which
the just God had planted in this land,
and left it without fruit or verdure.
Away, away, with all this " specious fry
of fraud"—with English rule and En
glish robbery. Down to their native
hell with aristocratic plunderers and
vice-regal green-croppers.
. .
Thei; ho — ur is corn;. With the keen
steel which will redden in the blood of
the first foreign butcher, we will write
Finis in the book of British crime, and
trace the title page of Irelands new his-
The people of this land have been
dreaming an uneasy dream. The night
mare vanishes at last, and the blood
stream circulates in the country once
more.—They can stir their arms and
use their strength again. A voice was
heard crying in the wilderness, and it
has aroused them to sense and volition.
A glorious fiat lux was re-echoed from
one end of the isle to the other, and
the clouds rolled oft from our horizon,
and the blue sky looked forth on us and
blessed us. A revelation came unto
the people, and they felt that they had
only to say, " we shall do such a thing"
and it was done—they felt at last, the
everlasting truth on their benighted
souls, that a people's will, and Omnip-
otence—as far as regards earth—are sy-
Let them come forth, then, in the sun
light, and take the rights which have
been withheld from them so long—yes !
take them, for they have only to stretch
forth their hands and they will soon grasp
the treasure which they desire. Paris
willed that it should be free, and Louis
Philippe packed up his things, put his
umbrella under his arm, and renewing I
his youth—eagle like—went forth a
travelling.—Sicily willed that the Union
act—which sucked out its life blood— '
should be repealed, and the first sword
which gleamed in the patriot's hand,
cut the parchment link that bound it
to a foreign country—Milan—but why
multiply instances 1 Is it not plain as
that God liveth we shall receive, if we
ask in the commanding tones of freemen,
not in the whining accent of slaves
Come forward then, ye suffering poor
and provelo your oppressors that you
are men, and not dogs. From the fields
where you toil in the heat of summer
and frost of winter, coaxing out of the
heart of the earth those hidden riches
which minister to your tyrant's luxury
—from the filthy lanes where you cow
er in rags, and wet and misery, hiding
your shame from the eyes of your fellow
men, and gnawing (you have done it!)
through the flesh of your own children,
to fan the flickering flame of life within
you—from the under ground cellars,
where some of you endowed, mayhap,
with high aspirations and sunny genius,
grovel, worm like, in cold and nastiness,
cursing the rule which has crushed you
down to dest, and extinguished the heav
enly light within you—from the haunts
of crime, where with breaking hearts,
you sell the beauty which was intended
to adorn the homes of virtue, that the
Hungary fiend which is preying upon
your entrails may be satisfied—come
forth, come forth ye poor.—You wear
the garb of humanity ; you have the ap
pearance of men. Let the garb have
something within it—let the appearance
clothe a reality. You were made to
God's likeness. Premiers and aristo
crats may deny it, but the Man God
who died for you has said so. Blood
circulates in'your veins, too. You have
rights to demand and wronge to avenge.
, You haveasrich a flu3d within yourhearts
as the tyrants who tramp on you. You are
like them in physical formation. If
they prick you do not you bleed 1 If they
poison you, do not you die 1 You are
stronger than they are. They are few
and you are many. Up, then grapple
with them, and try a fall or two. It is
only when you have your hands round
their waists that you can truly estimate
their strength or weakness.
The Pope the True Reformer.
The Revolution in Europe, was start
ed in Rome, beyond all question. The
Pope himself was the first Reformer,
who gave an impetus to the ball, that
has since rolled with so much violence
from the Mediterranean to the Baltic,
and from the Danube to the Po. The
Pope having been reproached for all this,
has thus replied in a letter to a member
of the French National Assembly, no
doubt Lamartine
" The different governments have been
long reppaching me as the cause of their
disasters and embaraassments. I have
replied, that in granting concessions to
my people I did but follow the advice
which those powers gave to my prede
cessors. If I have counselled the peo
ple to obey their rulers, I have engaged
rulers to do justice to their people. Nor
is it my fault it the people have risen
against sovereigns who have rejected
my counsels. As to Italy, not only
have I never opposed the war as a sov
ereign and as an Italian. But as Priest
and Pope, all Christians being my chil
dren, I must do my best to prevent their
slaughtering each other.
A .. 11 0. of Romance.
The Philadelphia papers tell a story
which savors so much of romance that
it might be discredited, were not the
particulars all fully substantiated. On
Thursday last an advertisement appear
ed in the Ledger of that city, in which
John Dawson, a young man, desired to
learn something of his relatives, from
whom he had been separated eighteen
or twenty years. It appears that in the
year 1829, when about four years of
age, he was stolen from his parents, then
living in Philadelphia, by a man named
Charles Ingelfritz, who took him on
board a boat bound for New Bedford,
and subsequently carried him on vari
ous voyages to all quarters of the globe.
The boy, though conscious of having
been stolen from his parents, could ob
tain no clue to the fact, until one day,
Ingelfritz, while intoxicated, spoke of
having taken him from Philadelphia.—
This induced the young man to adver
tise, and the result is, that he has found
his father in the person of Daniel Bro.
sann, residing in 11/I'Coy's Court, South
Front Street, Philadelphia. The father
identified him by certain marks upon
his person. The meeting took place on
ISaturday, and the joy on the part of
both is said to have been indescribable.
The father, and a brother and sister
were all that survived, his mother having
become deranged anddied years ago.
The following clever specimen of playful nar
rative is furnished by a correspondent of the
New Orleans Picayune :
Immix, May 25, 1848.
The good people of lberville have been
in an excitement for some days, created
by an expected visit from Gen. Taylor,
he having promised to call on some of
his numerous friends in that parish and
partake of their hospitality. Quietly
and unheralded, accompanied by D. D.
Avery, he presented himself yesterday
at noon, (Tuesday,) at the residence of
J. N. Brown, Esq., where he partook of
a sumptuous dinner, and then proceeded
to the house of a warm personal friend,
Col. R. A. Stewart, where he established
I himself for the day. The General was
in remarkable fine spirits, and since he
has thrown aside the military dress and
comes out in a new suit of black, it
seems as if he bad turned back the .
wheels of time and stricken the marks
of ten years from his capacious brow.
It so happened that on the very even
ing of the arrival of Gen. Taylor at Col.
Stewart's, the beautiful residence of
Mr. Simon Le Blanc was lighted up un
til it seemed one blaze of light, anti
within its precincts were heard the
sounds of revelry. The patriarch's
youngest daughter had a few hours be
fore stood at the bridal altar, and hun
dreds of relatives and friends were joy
ously celebrating the event. The rumor
went through the crowd that Gen. Tay
lor had arrived in the neighborhood.
The beautiful bride, the troupe of
bride's maids, the whole circle of Lou.
isiana's fairest daughters that graced
the festive scene, repeated the honored
name, while the gentlemen more bois
terously gave vent to their feelings of
admiration. In a few moments the la
dies formed a plan to capture the old
hero." They felt confident that they
could do what Santa Anna and twenty
thousand picked troops could not. Three
lovely young ladies were at once organ
' ized into a powerful army, supported by
several gentlemen.
The affiiir was entirely successful ; the
light artillery got on the gallery of the
house unperceived, as it was raining
very hard at the trine, and boldly enter
ing the sally port, carried old Zack in
fifteen seconds. At the time, he was
firmly seated in a large red-backed arm
chair; Colonel Stewart supporting him
on the right, his accomplished lady on
the left.
The General on the first attack
attempted to manoeuvre, but it was
a total failure ; the ditch was on the
wrong side, and the first discharge of a
little more grape of bright eyes set him
fluttering, and with a few random shots
lie surrendered at discretion long before
the heavy artillery in the rear was
brought into action. Old Zack, howev
er, displayed considerable presence of
mind even under the novel position of a
defeat, and capitulated that lie should
ride to the wedding in the carriage with
his cap-tiva-tors, and be treated other
wise with all the consideration of hon
orable warfare.
Gen. Taylor was instantly hurried
off for fear of a rescue, as there were
large forces of the enemy hovering
about, all anxious to get him into their
possession. 1-le acted in a most resign
ed manner throughout, and as far as we
could judge, showed a little of La Vega's
spirit, being rather pleased with his
place of imprisonment.
On arriving at Mr. Le Blanc's he was
conducted with due ceremony into the
crowded rooms. A buzz of excitement
followed, and when the old general was
seen, the waving of fair hands and loud
shouts of "Welcome General Taylor,"
followed ; a " bridal favor" was imme
diately pinned on his right shoulder and
another imprinted on his lips, and he
became the observed of all observers.
The General was literally crushed
under favors; he however maintained
his position. It would be impossible for
us to detail all the interesting incidents
of the occasion, and perhaps it would
not be improper for us to notice that
tho little grandson of Mr. Simon Le
Blanc, who rejoices in the winning name
of Zachary Taylor, was placed in the
old General's arms, he prophecying that
it was bound to be a General some of
these days.
SIG3IFICANT.—There was a large meet
ing at Buffsloe on Wednesday evening
of the portion of the Democracy opposed
to the nominees of the Baltimore Con
vention. Among the speakers was John
Van Buren. One little incident which
occurred during his address is worthy
of record. He was reviewing the mer
its of the two candidates for the highest
office in the gift of the people, and as
ked, is General Taylor fit for the Pres
idency 'I Scarcely had the words es
caped from his lips, when there went up
a responsive " Yes—yes—yes" from
the multitude.
e\A nrn
BY n. W. BEtcnin.
Scene the First,
A genteel coffee house—whose humane
screen conceals a line of grenadier bot
tles, and hides respectable blushes from
impertinent eyes. There is a quiet lit
tle room opening out of the bar ; and
here sit four jovial youths. The dards
are out and the wines are in. The fourth
is a reluctant hand : he does not love
the drink nor approve the game. He
anticipates and fears the result of both.
Why is he here ? He is a whole-soul
ed fellow, and is afraid to seem asha
med of any fashionable gaiety. He will
sip his wine upon the importunity of a
friend newly come to town, and is too
polite to spoil the friend's pleasure by
refusing a part in the game. They sit,
shuffle, deal ; the night wears on, the
clock telling no tale of passing hours—
the prudent liquor-fiend made it safely
dumb. The night is getting old ; its
dark air is growing fresher : the east is
grey : the gaming and drinking and hi
larious laugh are over, and the youths
Wending their way homeward. What
says conscience 1 No matter what h
says, they did not hear and will not hear.
Whatever was said, it was very shortly
answered thus : " This has not been
gambling: all were gentlemen: there
was no cheating: simply a convivial
evening : no stakes except the bills inci
dental to the entertainment. If any man
blames a young man for a little innodEnt
exhilaration on a special occasion, he is
a superstitious bigot; let him croak !"
Such a garnished game is made the
text to justify the whole round of gam
bling. Let us then look at
Scene the Second.
In a room so silent that there is no
sound except the shrill cock crowing in
the morning when the forgotten candles
burn dimly over the lengthened wicks,
sit four men. Carved marble could not
be more motionless, save their hands.—
Pale, watchful, though weary, their eyes
pierce the cards, or fugitively read each
other's face. Hours have passed over
thus. At length they rise without words:
some with a satisfaction which only
makes their faces brightly haggard,
scrape off the piles of money ; others,
dark, sullen, silent, fierce, move away
from their lost money. The darkest
and also the fiercest of the four, is that
young friend who first sat down to make
a game ! Ha never will sit so innocent
ly again. What says he to his conscience
now 1 "1 have a right to gamble : 1
have a right to be damned, too, if I
choose : whose business is it ?"
Scene the Third,
Years have passed on. He has seen
youth ruined at first with expostulation,
and then with only silent regret, then
consenting to take part in the spoils,
and finally he has himself decoyed, du
ped and stripped them without mercy.
Go with me into that dilapidated house
not far from the landing at New Or
leans. Look into that dirty room.--
Around that broken table, sitting upon
boxes, kegs, or broken chairs, see a fil
thy crew dealing cards srcouched with
tobacco, grease and liquor. One has a
pirate face burnished and burnt with
brandy ; a stock of grizzly matted hair
half covers his villain eyes, which glare
out like a wild beast's from a thicket.—
Close to him wheezes a white-faced,
dropsical wretch, vermin-covered and
stenchful. A scoundrel Spaniard and
a burley negro, (the jolliest of the four,)
completes the group. Here hour draws
on boar, sometimes with threat, and
oath and uproar. The last few stolen
dollars lost, and temper, too, each char ,
ges each with cheating, and high words
ensue, and blows, and the whole gang
burst out the door, beating ; biting ;
scratching and rolling over and over in
the dirt and dust. The worst, the fier
cest, the drunkest of the four, is our
friend who began by making up the
Scerte the Fotirth.
Upon this bright day, stand with me
if you would be sick of humanity, and
look over that multitude of men kindly
gathered to see a murderer hung ! At
last a guarded cart drags on a thrice
guarded wretch. At the gallows ladder
his courage fails. His coward feet re
fuse to ascend; dragged up, he is sup
ported by bustling officials ; his brain
reels, his eye swim., while the meek
minister utters a final prayer by his
leaden ear. The prayer is said, the
noose is fixed, the signal is. given; a
shudder runs through the crowd as he
swings free. After a moment, his con
vulsed limbs stretch down, and hang
heavily and still : and he who can begin
to gamble to make up a game, and end
with stabbing an enraged victim whom
he had fleeced, has here played the last
game--himself the stake.
ID" N. P. Trist has removed to the
town of West Chester, in this State.
A Nut for the CurlOus,
A singular phenomenon occurred this
spring at the farm of Martin Mull, Esq.,
in Falls township. His orchard is com
posed of the usual varieties. The blos
soms on one of the Fall pippin trees,
whieh bears excellent fruit, has been pe
culiarly fatal to tiegrly all the bees of
eery description that haVe visited it—
the lineable' bees in a'n especial Manner:
The ground is thickly strewed wifh the
dead. The bees after visiting several
blossoms in their usual way, would be
apparently attacked With vertigo, as if
they had taken some deadly narcotic,
and descend in spiral circles to the
ground. Some would be dead very iition,
others would linger a considerable time
before they would die ; and but few
would recover to escape. The tree is
now thickly set with young fruit. No
other trees in the orchard produced such
or similar effects on the bees, nor was
it ever observed before on the trees in
question.—Bucks Co. Intelligences.
ID- God has written upon the flowers
that sweeten the air—on the breeze that
rocks the flowers on the stem—upon the
rain drop that refreshes the sprig of'
Moss that lifts its head in the desert- -
upon the ocean that rocks every swim- -
mer in its deep chamber—upon every
pencilled shell that sleeps in the cav- -
erns of the deep, no less titan upon the'
mighty sun that warms and cheers mil
lions of creatures that live in its light—
upon his works he has written, None
of us liteth tri himself:" And probably
were we Wise enough to understand
these works we should find there is no
thing, from the cold stone in the earth,
or the minutest creature that breathes
—which may not, in some way or other
minister to the happiness of some liv-'
ing creature. We admire and praise the .
flower that best answers the end for
which it was created, end the tree that
bears fruit the most rich and abundant ;
the star that is most useful in the heav
ens we admire the most:
And is it not reasonable that man, to
whom the whole crention, from the flow
er up to the spangled heavens all minis
ter—man who has power of conferring
deeper misery and higher happiness
than any being on earth—man, Who'
can act like God if he will : is it not rea
sonable that he should live for the no
ble end of living—not for himself, but
for others"!
[l:7- A party of young men were dining
at a public house, and among sundry
dishes served up for the occasion, was
a chicken roasted. One of the gentle
men present, made an ineffectual attempt
to carve it, when he stopped suddenly,
and called for the landlord who was in
another part of the room.
"Lanalord," said he, " you might
have made a great deal more money
with this chicken before me, than serv ,
ing it up in this way.
" How so 1" asked the landlord, start ,
Why, in taking it around the cove
try to exhibit it."
Exhibit a chicken 1 Who would
give anything to see a chicken 1" said
mine host, getting a little riled.
.‘ Why every body would have paid
to see this one, for you might have in
formed them, I have no doubt with truth,
that this is the same rooster that crow•
ed when Peter denied his master 1"
" ROUGH AND READY."—We take pleas- -
ure in recording the following happy
hit, given by Mr. T. W. Whitley, of
Covington, during the delivery of a
speech in support of General Taylor
for the Presidency. "My veteran op
ponent," said Mr. %V., "objects to Gen.
Taylor on the ground of scholarship.--.
This question," said lie, with all due
deference, should be referred to the
Mexicans, " for," said Mr. Whitley,
"the old General, I believe, taught
school in their country, and turned the
whole of Buena Vista into a college, and
as to penmanship," said Mr. W., rais
ing his voice to a high pitch, "with a
steel pointed pen, he wrote his name a
thousand miles in length, on the arid
plains in Mexico, so ineffable, that time
Itself shall not erase it."
HORRIBLE.-A mad dog attacked a
child about eight months old in New
Orleans, a few days since. Before the
child could be rescued, life was extinct
—the dog had gnnwed away better than
one half of the victim I
ALMONTE.—This distinguished Mexi
san is about to visit the United States
with his family, and will probably take
up his permanent residence in the city
of New Orleans, where he spent much
of his youth, and acquired much of tho
valuable information he wesesses. He
has lost all his popularity in Mexico, and
is thoroughly disgusted with the coat