Brunswick advocate. (Brunswick, Ga.) 1837-1839, November 16, 1837, Image 1
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DAVIS * SHORT, PUBLISHERS
VOLUME X.
The Brunswick Advocate,
Iv published every Thursday Morning, in the
city of ltrunswick, Glynn County, Georgia,
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Legal Advertisements published at the
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(UpN. B. Sales of L and, by Administrators,
Executors or Guardians.' are required, by law,
to be held on the first Tuesday in the month,
between the hours of ten in the forenoon and
three in the afternoon, at the Court-house in
the county in which the property is situate
Notice of these sales must be given In a public
gazette, Sixty Days previous to the day ol
sale.
Sales of Negroes must be at public auction,
on the first Tuesday of the month, between the
usual hours of sale, at the place of public sales
in the county where the letters testamentary,
of Administration or Guardianship, may have
been granted, first giving sixty days notice
thereof, in one of the public gazettes of this
State, and at the door of the Court-house, where
such sales are to be held.
Notice for the sale of Personal Property. must
be given in like manner, Forty days previous
to the day*of sale.
Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an Es
tate must be published for Forty days.
Notice that application will be made to the
Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land, must
lie published for Four Months.
Notice for leave to sell Negroes, must be
published for Four Months, before any order
absolute shall be made thereon by the Court.
1» O E T It If .
[From the New England Magazine.]
AUTUMN.
Upon a leaf-strown walk,
I wander on amid the sparkling dews;
Where Autumn hangs upon each frost-gemmed
stalk,
Her gold and purple hues ;
Where the tall fox-gloves shake
Their loose bells to the wind, and each sweet
flower
Bows down its perfumed blossoms to partake
The influence of the hour ;
Where the cloud-shadows pass
With noiseless speed by lonely lake and rill,
Chasing each other o’er the low crisped grass
And up the distant hill; —
Wlnye the clear stream steals on
Upon its silent path, as it were sad
To find each downward gazing flower has gone
That made it once so glad.
I number it in days,
Since last I through this secluded dell;
Seeking a shelter from the summer rays,
Where flowers and wild-birds dwell.
While gemmed with dew-drops bright,
Green leaves and silken, buds were flancing
there,
I moved my lips in murmurs of delight,
‘And blessed them, unaware.’
How changed each sylvian scene !
Where is the warbling bird ? the sun’s clear
ray ?
The waving brier-rose? and foliage green,
That canopied iny way ?
Where is the balmy breeze
That fanned so late my brow ? the sweet south
west,
That whispering music to the listening trt'SPj
My raptured spirit blest ?
Where are the notes of spring ?
Yet the brown bee still hums his quiet tune,
And thog|ow shiver of the insect’s wing,
Disturbs the hush of noon.
* '
The thimiransparent leaves,
Like flakes of amber, quiver in the light;
While Autumn round fier silver fret-work
weaves
In glittering hoar-frost white.
O, Autumn, thou are blest!
My bosom heaves with breathless rapture here,
I love thee well, season of mournful rest!
Sweet Sabbath ol the year ! R. C. W.^
“Pray sir,” said a gentleman to a wag,
upon one of our wood wharves, the other
day, ‘’Pray sir, what % wood now 1”
“ What is wood now ?” replied th 6 wag,
“why trees cut down and choppd up.”
A village is like that subterranean cave
called the ear of Dionysius, nothing pas-j
ses m it, of near it, but it is distantly
known.
BRUNSWICK, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 16, 1837.
MISCEIiLAIY.
From the London Times.
PRESENT STATE OF SPAIN.
The following letter, just received from
an eminent merchant in the Sleuth of
Spain, will enable our readers to form a |
tolerable idea of the internal state of
that country. The writer of it, an Irish
gentleman,but many years settled in Spain,
is a man whose mercantile avocations and !
ext&sive connexions afford him the best
opportunities for learning the real state
of the country, and the feelings of the
people. His opinion of Republican Rad
icals of the Catholic religion and of its
priesthood, and of Cipid’s foreign policy j
and of its effects in Spain, is well wor-|
thy of attention at this moment, the more
so as the writer is himself by disposition
a Radical.
“If I were to fill twenty shects-of pa- i
per, I could not give you an adequate idea j
of the dreadful state of Spain. With a
climate and soil capable, of yielding al
most every production of the world, and
of maintaining in luxury or comfort at
least four times the present amount of its
population, full" of rich mines, and a-,
bounding in internal resources for fur
nishing t lie most lucrative employment
to its working classes, and with an extent
of coast and situation for commerce
which ought to render it one of the first ;
of mercantile nations, this beautiful king
dom presents nevertheless one continued
scene of apathy, degradation, and wretch
edness ; Its people contented to live on l
the fare which they can obtain with the !
least trouble, and not knowing or caring
what can improve their own condition or
that of their country, to which are now
added all the horrors of civil war and ol
a total suspension, of all law, authority
and government. With the exception of
Gomez’s dashing tour last year, the South
of Spain, thank God, has not yet seen J
the actual theatre ofthe present civil war ; |
but, although we are not exposed to the j
fire and sword of civil war, we do not
think that we enjoy peace and security. I
From what I have seen and learned of
the Northern Provinces, 1 believe that
we are not in a much more enviable sit
uation than they are. As far as respect
for the law, obedience to the public au
thorities, or any other kind of subordina
tion are concerned, the Queen’s govern
ment is a perfect farce. Every man who
has a gun and dares to use it, or who is
supported by or connected with one of
the political parties, or of the numerous
factions which exist, not only in every
town, but in every village and hamlet, is
at perfect liberty to do as he pleases, and
may rob or murder another with all but
certain impunity. The only partial ex
ceptions to this state of things are the few
large cities or commercial towns, where
the number of foreigners and of oilier
persons strongly interested in the .main
tenance of tranquility is sufficient to over
awe these villains. I have repeatedly
seen a man or a party coming in a coun
try town or village, openly and in broad
| day, with their guns on their shoulders,
| as if returning from a sporting excursion,
j after perpetrating in the most cold-blood
led and deliberate manner, for the sake
jof plunder or revenge.the murder of some
innocent person or family ; and although
their intentions were previously known
and avowed, and the murder became tbe
talk of the whole town, vet he or they
were left perfectly unmolested by the pub
lic authorities and inhabitants. Men who
are well known to have committed a do
zen murders live among, and have the
usual intercourse with, their neighbors,
as if they were the most innocent of man
kind. —Under pretence of supporting the
government, and of putting down its en
emies, or of taking up the cause of Don
(hirlos as the rightful hetr to the crown,
every part of the country is infested with
murderous scoundrels, consisting of the
dreas of the population, and of all the
vagabond, of town an and country, who.
being well armed, surprise families or in
dividuals, attack and plunder houses, put
undo* contribution all tbe peaceable inhab
itants as well as travellers, and treat eve
ry place they visit like a conquered coun
try, often committing the most fiendish
acts and dreadful .atrocities. In short,
the saying of‘might is right’ is strikingly
illustrated in this unhappy land, and I
can only compare the present state of
things to what is related of the jours de
la tirrcur in the old French revolution.
“It is impossible to travel, or even to
go more than a few miles from the largest
towns, or than a stone’s throw from the
smaller ones, without an armed escort ;
and, even then, if your escort is not large,
or if it happens to be exceeded by tbe
number and daring ofthe armed band with
whom you may fall in, you are sure to be
attacked and robbed, and perhaps mur
dered, and certainly the latter if you have
| attempted to resist and are overcome. So
i frequent have become these outrages, that
a friend of mine, who resided on his es
tate only three miles from a considerable
town, has been obliged to quit his house j
and to take one in the town, artd he can
not go to his property, and still less sleep
there, even a single night, without being
accompanied by a large armed escort.
Last year, wishing to spend a short time
there to superintend some works which
were indispensable and important, he was
obliged, as the ol incurring
his personal safety, to open a negotiation
with the leaders of the band who were
chiefly known to infest that part of the
country, and to purchase their forbearance
by a heavy bribe. Besides this in order
to gratify their vanity and insure their
good-will, he was literally under the ne
cessity of inviting them to a large dinner
or feast during his stay there, and to wel
come, receive at his table, and drink to
the health of a whole gang of cut-throats
and highwaymen, most of whom were pub
licly known to have been guilty of innu
merable murders, rapes, and of every
otlierepecies of atrocity and crime.
“Internal trade is, as you may suppose, |
almost entirely at an end ; and if this des-j
olating contest continues a few years lon-1
ger, 1 expect that the farmers will cease to !
cultivate their land, and the vine growers!
their vineyards, and that scarcity of food
will be added to the present calamities
of Spain. Where the Queen's Govern
ment still has sufficient authority those
poor people have to be National Guards,
and, if necessary, to fight when the far
riosis, as the Carlists are called, come!
into their district ; and if the cause of I
Don Carlos is the strongest there, they
are, with their sons and servants, pressed |
into his service. In either case they are
plundered without mercy, and generally
by both parties, their horses, and mules
being taken sans reremonie for their bag-!
gage train or cavalry, or pressed into the'
service and worked to death in convey-1
ing the baggage and provisions through!
their district ; and their cattle,sheep,corn,
and wine, being appropriated to provis-j
ion the army, and their forage the cavalry,
whenever any of these things are wanted
by either party. Sometimes, indeed, the
form of giving them a written order for
payment is gone through, but one would
think it intended as a mockery, and few
of them are so foolish as to take the trou
ble of even presenting it. The conse
quence is, that the ground is not half
tilled, every thing is neglected.and every
farmer is being ruined. Again, either
from real inability, or from taking advan
tage of this state of things to plead it,
hardly any farmer pays a farthing of his
rent, and even large landed proprietors
i are starving if they have no other proper
ty, particularly as they are bow obliged
to take refuge in the towns, and are thus
put to great additional expense.
“Many people say that the influence of
the clergy is greatly diminished in Spain ;>■
but unfortuneately,this has taken place in a
j way which has done much more harm
than good. It is the influence of the qui
et, peaceable pastor#, who lived on good
terms with their neighbors, and did not
meddle with politics, which has diminish
ed, while that of the priests who are vio
lent fanationl bigots* and who also carry
on the trade of political demagogues, is,
I think, greater than ever. It seems to
me, from what I learn from the English
newspapers and the communications of
my friends, that the same principles and
feelings are now at work in Spain and in
Great Britain and Ireland. The priests
who carry on the joint trade of. rapid fan
aticism and political agitation in this coun
try, support the Queen, as the priests
who are playing the same game in Ireland
are ostensible advocates of liberal opin
ions ; their real inward motives and feel
ings are the same, namely, to reinstate
the Catholic religion in its former pleni
tude of power, and in its absolute sway
over the minds and temporal affairs of
men as well as over their spiritual con
cerns. Then we have here our wild re
publican theorists, who only know how
’to shout and hurrah for what they call
“liberty,” and whose heads are as empty
and void of any notion of practical gov
ernment as the red cap which forms their
boasted emblem.
“The real state of Spain is this ;—The
great bulk of the people of all classes
neither understand nor care a fig for any
matters relatingto politics, government,
or public affairsj>fhoy are as indifferent
about the Queen and her party as about
Don Carlos and his. All they want is to
be left quiet, to mind their mvn concerns,
jand to go on .heir old jog-trol way. The
only exceptions to this general rule arc
the Republican theorists, and the politi
cal priests and their dupes, whom I have
already described, and the inhabitants of
the Basque provinces, who support Don
1 Carlos merely because he promised to
respect and confirm their fueros. There
,is no energy, no enterprise, and neither
public spirit nor public honesty, to be
found in this country. Every man is ei
ther totally apathetic, or he only seeks to
profit by the scramble and to take care ofi
himself. This feeling also generally per
vades the soldiers on both sides; they
care not a jot for their country,their coun- j
“HEAR ME FOR MY CAUSE.”
[trymen, or their party; plunder and re
i venge seem to he their only motives of
action; and their presence is as much
dreaded, or perhaps more,by those whom
J they call their friends, as by their avow
ed enemies. Neither party Ims sufficient
energy or strength to overcome the.other,
and I fear that matters have now come
|to that pass, that the present system of
skirmishing and guerilla warfare may go
on for a century, or until the whole coun
try is devastated, and the people extermi
nated by fire, sword, famine, and other
sufferings, unless the mediation or forci
ble interference (but in an ij/utual man
ner) of other nations puts at: end to the
contest.”
Lord Brougham. If there was any
man in England whom I wished to see
and hear more than I did auy other it was
Henry Brougham. I had heard so much
of his nervous antics, and anomalous
physiognomy, that I expected to be rather
amused than interested by his personal
appearance. You may as well suppose,
therefore, that as I waited -with the ex
pectant thousands in Exeter Halil, for his
arrival, to take the chair, at one of the
great anniversaries, my curiosity was
wrought up to a high pitch. When at
length he came in, and advanced to the
front ofthe platform, amid the enthusias
tical greetings of the vast assembly, I con
fess I was much disappointed. He wore
a plain frock coat, and there was nothing
in his dress or address to distinguish him
from any well bred private gentleman.—
Lord Brougham is not much, if any, be
low the middling stature—rather spare |
than corpulent—carrying none of the
common marks of high living in his face;
and if he ever wore that angular, huddled
and spasmodic visage, which has been as
cribed to him, he must have left it with
the Lord Chancellor's wig, in the West
minster wardrobe. I was near him on
this and other occasions, for hours to
gether, and cannot be mistaken. He is
not a handsome, but neither is lie an ill
looking man. llis features are very
strong, but not grotesque. lie appears to
be rather under fifty years of age than
over. His forehead is broadly furrowed,
j bis eyes are small and restless, and deep
ly shaded in their retirement, under arcli
; ing and shaggy brows. llis nose is rath
;er short and blunt than aquiline. There
is a slight nervous twitching about the
muscles of his face, even in its repose ;
and when he is highly excited in debate,
it becomes extremely active. His voice
has neither very great power nor com
pass ; and yet lie speaks with so much dis
tinctness and deliberation, that all can
hear in the largest assemblies. Ordinarily
when he commences, if you did not know
who he was, you would not be particular
ly struck, either with what he says or with
! his manner of saying it. Belore he has
'proceeded far, however, you perceive that
the energies of a mighty mind are waking
into action. His sentences as they fall
■ one after another from his lips, are as
perspicuous, as well turned, and as much
’ condensed as if he had written them off tor
the Edinburg Quarterly in his closet.—
The whole vocabulary seems to be entire
ly at his command ; and it is extremely
interesting to follow him step by step as
lie culls from the inexhaustible store-house
the very words which most exactly and
forcibly express , his meaning. When
Lord Brougham is thoroughly roused,
(and I happened to hear him on one such
occasion,) his mind seems more like an
intensely heated and devouring furnace,
than any thing else to which 1 can com
pare it. The Hashes are so excessively
bright, that they almost blind you; and
wo be even to Nebuchadnezzar’s mighty
: men, if they venture too near to the mouth
!of it. I believe it is conceded on all hands,
that no man equals him, in the bitterness
of his scorn, or the burning and over
whelming power of his invectives. Very
few, when his indignant spirit is seen to
be on fire, have the temerity to meet him,
i with such weapons as they can draw from
the same armory, and of those few, there
i is not one, probably, but that secretly re
pents of his chivalry, before the onset is
over In his premeditated attacks, you
;see the little eddy, which at first only
raises the leaves and dust, but which
widens and gathers* strength every mo
ment, as it advances, till at length it be- j
comes a perfect tornado, and wrings off
the studiest oaks in its progress. Tftis, I
admit, is not one of the most amiable
traits of character which a great man can
possess ; but then it ought to be remem
bered as some apology for him, that hard
ly any man was ever so much goaded and
chafed by a powerful and relentless press,
as Lord Brougham has been within the last
six years. As the great champion of re
form both in and out of Parliament, he
has made himself obnoxious to the high
Tory party, particularly in the upper
House.
Many of Lord Brougham’s friends re
gret his elevation to the peerage, because
it has withdrawn him forever from the
House of Commons, the finest field in the
world for the exercise of his powers ; and
it is believed, from hints of his own, that
lie regrets it, as much as any body. I
heard him say myself, at the meeting for
the protection of religious liberty, that he
could not serve the people with half the
efficiency now, as he had once been able
to do, in the popular branch of the legis
lature. the Lords, ho is sure, on all
great questions of reform to encounter a
dead majority, and to he voted down in
the end, however triumphant I* may be
in the argument. But even there, his
power is felt and dreaded, more than that
of any other member. He is the last man
in the world, to be brow beaten and si
lenced any where. As an example ofthe
style in which he sometimes cymes out
upon their lordships, I will give you a
short extract from one of his speeches, at
the last session on the Municipal Reform
Bill. They were determined to put him
down, by calling loudly for the question,
and by other boisterous interruptions, in
the midst of his answer to a pretty sev ere
attack, from Lord Lyndhurst: “One or
two of you cry qurstion when I attempt to
meet this attack ; from a total ignorance
of my nature, and of my habits of life
from a foolish and ridiculous and absurd i
notion, that by crying qurstion, yon can
put me down. Why, I have stood up
against half the House of Commons, when
they cried qurstion, for three quarters of
an hour, and they could not put me down
rata lip (/••glad ios contempsi; into tuus ptr~
timrscaru. I know what it is to stand
against three hundred men, pretending to
be representatives of the people, who have
attempted to drown the voice of one man,
who was their real friend, and representa
tive,and they did not succeed; and do you
think, that one of you ! can put medown?”
I hardly need,to add, that they were
obliged to give it up, and let him finish
his speech at his leisure.
R was generally thought, I believe when
Sir Robert Feel resigned, and Lord Mel
bourne was again brought into office, that
Lord Brougham would return with him
and he reinstated on the woolsack. In
forming the administration, however, he
was left, for the great seal was put in
commission. This excited a good deal
of speculation, in all political circles, and
the answer of Ministers, to some questions
put to them in Parliament, on the sub
ject, was that the arrangement was mere
ly temporary. Whether it was made on
purpose to exclude Lord Brougham, or
for some other reason, it is hard to say.—
It was reported, that the king was highly
offended at some unwarrantable liberties
which he had taken with the great seal
while it was in his keeping, and would not
consent to his again coming in the Cabinet
on any terms. It was also surmised, that
Lord Melbourne and his colleagues quite
willingly yielded to his Majesty’s pleas
ure, on the ground, that the ardent tem
perament of the late Chancellor might oc
casion them more embarrassment, than
his counsels would aid them, in carrying
on the government. Whatever might be
the true cause, it was evident that Lord
Brougham felt it keenly, especially as his
enemies taunted him with being repudiat
ed by his own friends and habitually spoke
of him, as flic decayed and Dowagir
(J/umrrllor. Greatly to his credit, how
ever, he manfully sustained the adminis
tration, in all their measures; and it was
most obvious to ovary one, that whatever
might be their views in regard to the ex
pediency of his being in the Cabinet,
they were very glad of his assistance, and
that in the House of Lords, they could
hardly have done without it. Though out
of office, Lord Brougham is not out o tpay.
lie has a pension, for life, of foe thousand
pounds, about the same as our President’s
salary, and there are now living tvva oth
er Ex-Lord Chancellors—Lord Lyndhurst
ami I believe Lord Eldon, upon the same
comfortable and permument stipend !
no very favorable specimen, you will say,
of British economy. [Dr. Humphrey’s
Tour.
%
Thf. Police of the Salons. If pop
ular rumors were to be believed, the po
lice had myriads of agents scattered in
all public places and in the salons. No
word, not a gesture could eSSape this in
cessant surveillance. Unquestionably,
the police has its agents, and I am far
from denying that it has many and of va
rious kinds, but it has infinitely less than
is generally supposed. The police expends
large sums; but if it had to pay all the
agents that are given to it by rumor, its
budget would amount to an incalculable
sum. I have heard marvellous aeoouuts
of important discoveries made by the po
lice. I have sometimes taken it into my
head to trace them to their origin, and I
have almost invariably found that they
resulted from accident, from some unex
pected piece of folly.
But if there is a great mistake in re
ference to the number ofthe agents, there
is fully as much in respect to the charac
ter of the persons from whOra the poiide
obtain their most valuabloun formation.
It is useles to repeat here that. J speak
J. W. FROST, EOITOS.
Hnon a*.
’• *Bt
| only of the political police; the police for
! robbers and assassins is quite'another af
fair. No one reflects hov large « num
ber of persons there are, always disposed
to tell what tfcey have heard, or what they
know, and that without any evil intention.
They talk for the mere sake of conversa
tion. They tell qne piece of ritews for
the purpose of hearing soflgg other,which
they may have the satisfaction of hawking
about. A man of talents would secure
.ill the fruits of political police, by his
! salon, his breakfast, and dinners.
Fouchh, during the periods that he held
the office of minister, rendered great ser
vices to many persons, and to persons of
all Opinions. He was every where welk
received, and particularly so in the roy
al faubourg St. Germain.
‘When you have anything had to say
of the Emperor or of the government,’
he would say to the noble inhabitants of
the noble faubourg, ‘wait until my arri
val. My presence will drive away the
spies. They will think there can be nO
occasion to tell me what I might hear my
self. Isl am not with you when you bab
ble anything,—they will repeat your con
versation tome —they will even go so far
as to repeat if elsewhere, and if I have
not taken the necessary precautions, I
shall myself be accused of negligence.
I have heard M. Real relate the means
by which he succeeded in shutting up a
salon, where politics were too much dis
! cussed. M. Real had himself rendered
j important services to persons of the an
dint regime. Many showed themselves
grateful. He frequently received the vis
its of a very t.llented lady, who is at this
time Duchess of C*** B***.
‘Madame,’he said one day, ‘your hus
band goes regularly to the soiries of Mad
ame delt****.’
‘Yes, regularly enough.’
‘Tell him to be oti his guard.’
‘How ! is that V
‘I tell you nothing— remark particular
ly, I say nothing; 1 only angage you. to
inform your husband, for whom I have a
sincere friendship, to he a little on his
guard whenever he goes to the house of
Madame de R****». On the whole, he
would do better riot to go there at all.’
‘Those persons are then in your inter
est ?’
‘I do not tell you that.’
‘lt is you, then, who help them to sup
port the luxury of their house?’
‘I do not say so ; and I pray you to
keep what I tell you carefully secret. It
is a friend who speaks to you ; and if you
repeat what I say I will send you all the
commentaries that may be made on the
subject. So act with discretion.’
‘1 promise you faithfully. Ah ! the
villains ! I will never enter their door a
gain.’
M. Real knew that his secret was well
placed ; that very evening it was very
mysteriously confided to a dozen intimate
friends who also promised silence; in two
days, all Paris was informed.
The day for the next soiree arrived ;
the salons remained perfectly empty.
One evening, M. Real encountered
Madame de R#**** at the opera, who ac
costed him angrily.
‘Sir,’she said to him, ‘you have stated
, that 1 was paid by the police—it is an in
famous falsehood.’
‘Madame,’ replied M. Real, raising
his voice, so that every one might hear,
I ‘l have never said that you were paid by
the police ; if you are paid By the police,
1 know my duty too well ever to say so.’
After so clear an explanation, the sal
ons of Madame de R****# lost their rep
j utatiou forever.
On the organization of the Government
of the United States in 1789, the Presi
dent occasionally met witlkthe Senate in
thefr chamber, and conferred with them
upon the Executive business with their
province. On the 22d August 1789, he
“wune into the Seuate Chamber, attended
by Gen. Knox, and laid before the Senate
9 statement of facts relating to the nego
tiation of a treaty with the Southern In
dians, with questions annexed for their
advice.” On these occasions, the Presi
dent took the chair of the Vice President,
wboth id a chair on the floor, but wfs
considered as the head of the Senate.
The Heads of department, too, wets
sometiufcs, we believe, called, upon, Os
admitted, to appear in either of
the National Legislature, to explain* hr
enforce the measures which tbe *TT*llini|t
tration recommended. ♦
“Precocity.” A yttaag eUM hwif
asked what tbe cake, a pioceef atftiefc k
was eating, was baked in, wad toiddut
it was baknd m a “apidw.” Intheicawe
of the day the Uttje qeaatio am. «ftM
evidently revolved the mysterious nutter
without obtaining a satisfactory solution
of it, and determined tdgrs|i&her oflfin*.
ity, in all the simplicity oF cniidkk fhirow
cence inquired—“ Where IkMCt
that you bake in ?”—{Gftdtidtdwsf '\wftp