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introduced to the resident minister of the
place. The minister recognized him as
a former preacher of the gospel—but who:
had fallen, it is added—from grace.
~ [From the Western Messenger.]
Interesting Incident in Kentickv
History. At the first mecling of the
Kentucky Histone*/ Society, the following |
anecdote of Indian generosity and mng-j
nanimity was related by a gentleman dis-l
tinguished in the annals of Kentucky, l
with whose permission we give it to the
public through our paper.
About the year 1784 or 1785, Mr. An-,
drew Rowan embarked hi a barge at the j
Falls of the Ohio, (where Louisville now
stands,) with a party to decend the river. |
The boat having stopped at the bellow!
Banks, on the Indian side, some distance)
below, Mr. Rowan, borrowing a rille of
one of the company, stepped on shore j
and strolled into the bottom, probably i
rather in pursuit of amusement than game;
for from having always been of a feeble
constitution and averse to action, he knew
not how to use a rifle, and besides had
with him but the single charge of atniini
tion which was in the gun. Jle uncon
sciously protracted his stay beyond what
he intended ; and, returning to the spot
where he had landed, saw nothing of the
boat nor the company he had left. It
being a time of hostility with the Indians,
and suspicions of their approacli having
alarmed the party, they had put off, and
made down the stream with all possible
haste, not daring to linger for their com
panion on shore. Mr. It. now found liim-
Bes alone on the hanks of the Ohio, a vast
and trackless forest stretching around him,
with but one charge of powder, and him
self too unsklled in the use of the rifle to
profit even by that, and liable at any mo
ment to fall into the hands of the savages.
The nearest settlement of t lie whites was
Vincennes, (now in Indiana,) distant prob
ably about one hundred miles. Shaping
his course as nearly as lie could calculate
for this, he commenced his perilous and
hopeless journey. Unaccustomed to trav
elling in the forest, he soon lost all reck
oning of his way, and wandered about at
venture. Impelled by the gnawings of
hunger he discharged his rifle at a deer that I
happened to pass near him, hut missed it.
The third day found him still wandering, I
whether towards Vincennes or from it he'
knew not, —exhausted, famished and des
pairing. Several times had lie laid down, j
as he thought, to die. Roused by the I
sound of a gun not far distant, betoken-j
ing, as he well knew, the presence of the !
Indians, he proceeded towards the spot j
whence the report had proceeded, resolved j
as a last hope of life, to surrender himself
to those whose tender mercies he knew to
he cruel. .Advancing a short distance he
saw an Indian approaching, who, on, dis
covering him—as the first impulse was
on any alarm with both the whites and In
dians on the frontiers in time of hostilities
—drew his ride to his shoulder, in readi
ness to fire. Mr. 11. turned the hut of
his, and the Indian, with a French polite
ness, turned the hut of his also. They
approached each other. The Indian see
ing his pale and emaciated appo rance,
and understanding the cause, took him
to his wigwam a few miles distant, where
he cooked for him for several days, and
treated him with the greatest hospital
ity. Then learning of him by signs that
lie wished to goto Vincennes, the Indian
immediately left his hunting, took his idle
and a small stock of prov isions, and con
ducted him in safety to that settlement, a
'distance from his cabin of about eighty
miles. Having arrived there, and wishing
to reward well the generous Indian to
whom lie owed his life, Mr. R. made ar
rangments with a merchant of the settle
incut, to whom lie made himself known,
to give him three hundred dollars. But
the Indian would not receive a farthing.
When made to understand hy Mr. R.
through an interpreter, that he could not
he happy unless lie would accept some
thing, lie replied, pointing to anew blank
et near him, that he would take that; and
added, wrapping his own blanket around
his shoulders,” when I wrap myself in it
I will think of you.”
Where was there ever a white man,
that even in a time of peace, would have
so befriended an Indian ? 1.. it.
Proofs of Love.—While lady Char
lotte Bury’s n«w novel, “Love,” was in
press, the following was handed about as
a note from the author to the printer:
“Dear Sir—How comes it that I have
had no proofs of Love from you since
Saturday last. ,1 have wait'd with the ut
most
Yours,* &c. C. B.”
As good a story as that of the piece of
music—"One kind kiss before wc part’’ j
—for which a lady inquired at a music
store in Philadelphia. The music had
not been reCeiv«£in Philadelphia, when!
the inquiry was made, nor had the clerk
heard of it. The lady, too, had made'
her purchases, and was retiring, when 1
suddenly turning round, she said—“Oh 1
forgot “One kind kiss before we part.’’ No
sooner said than done. The handsome
looking clerk sprang over the counter,
and before the lady could explain, lie had
imparted a kiss to her sweet, sweet lips,
with a smack that might have been heard
much further than it was.—[N. Y. Com.
The pay of all the members of both
Houses of Congress, including the Vice
President who receives Jf.liOOOper annum,
and the Speaker of the House who receives
<. hi per day, is said hv the Madisonian.to
amount to (il per day.
THE HiiST RACK OF FOUR MILK
IIKATS SINCE ECLIPSE AND IIEN-;
: RY’S.
The following most remarkable race was run |
| over the Beacon Course, Hoboken, on flic sth j
i June. The following particular account of it,
|we take from the New York Spirit of the
j Times:
Nearly fifteen thousand persons were in at- j
tendance to-day to witness whnt proved one of
the gamest and most interesting four mile rac
e.s ever run in the country. The proprietors •
had spared no pains in scraping and rolling :
the track, but it was still very heavy, Jhc sur
face was dry, but there was no elasticity in it. 1
Early in the morning the odds were J to 1 on
7fos/«n,biit after the horses were stripped such
odds were not Vo be bad. A line hand of mu
sic was upon the Club Stand, which was
crowded, as wadi as nil thv others.
'Phe ball was opened at 1 o’clock with an
apology for a two mile race. The entries
| were Svjfotk and Birnzi; 100 to 15 on Suffolk 1
i went a-begging. He won without nu effort in
1:54 J-X2—4:05 1 -11, Rienzi running restive i
from the start.
At 4 o'clock Boston and Duane came to the
post. Both were in superb condition, and per- i
Imps never looked better; 100 to 00 was now !
the largest odds offered. Boston had Corne-1
bus up, and Duane, Stephen, Charles Carter’s J
rider last week. Duane drew the track, and j
. now they are olid j
The Rac e. Duane led off with a tnoder- i
ate stroke under a hard pull, and maintained
j tin* lead 1)v a length to the Ist turn of the Ad j
mile, Boston waiting upon him in hand. Here
. Boston for the first tied time “triedit on” by!
I limning up to Duane’s girth; finding that out- ■
footing him was not what it had heeii cracked j
l up to In*. Boston was again taken in hand, j
i though the trial of speed was thought so con
i elusive,that '4 to 1 was currently offered on him.
| 1 ilium* came first to the stand, at the end of
I the Ad mile, but on the turn was again chal
lenged in earnest. Boston making a run at this
place on every mile, the rising ground being
peculiarly favorable to them. At this turn on
1 tlio 4tli mile a tremendous struggle ensued,
though both were out, and doing their best all j
the way down tin* straight side. Boston on
tin* backside again run iij> to Duane’s girth,!
and they continued lapped to the Ad quarter, |
where Boston declined, and Duane headed
him by three clear lengths. Boston made an- 1
i other clfort on the last quarter, hut could not
i reach him, and Duane won the heat cleverly!
hy a length in the clear, m 7:54.
Neither seemed much distressed, though the
heat was a most trying one, when the dead
and heavy state of the track is considered, i
The betters oil lime, of course, were floored,
and many now sought to make up their losses |
bv getting on their money at A and 1 to I on J
Duane, who cooled out rather heller than Bos- 1
ton.
Second 1 leat. —Duane led off, hut wa-'
collared at the first turn, and when they got
into straight work on iln * backside, they were 1
neck and neck. They kept tin the murderous I
rate round the semi-circle to the stand, earn - j
ing on the running as they passed it. nt the i
same killing stroke. On the turn of the 4d !
mile Boston began to draw met in front, and at
the qmuter mile* post was clear. In ten rods,'
however, Duane charged him most gallantly
and locked him, and once more they dashed
past the stand neck and neck. Boston drew
out on the rising ground at the turn as usual.
on entering the Ad mile, lint Duane ran up to
his thnmtlateli down the backside; on the Ad
quarter Dunne’s rider was ;i!l ahrond,anil Bos
ton made a gap of a length, Stephen giving
Duane no support, and reeling in his seat ns
i they passed the stand. Boston maintained his
| lead round the turn to the backside, hut tin*
instant they come into straight work. Duane
went up with a rush, that sent him clear ahead.
(Tremendous cheering.) lloston'sulked for an
instant, mid then, like a nonpareil as he is,
made a dash and regained his place in front.
(Three cheers more.) Again the stout-hearted
colt made a brush, and a second time he was
ahead, (A louder cheer yet); hut in four tre
mendous leaps Boston was again in front,
(Three cheers and one more for Boston) the
J whole passing and repassing being done on
| the straight run of a quarter of a mile on tin*
j backside, in less time than we have consumed
, m noting it. At the Ad quarter mile post Bos
ton was n-head and clear, hut before they
j reached the straight side in front he had
I changed places with the Virginia phenomenon,
who led round tlie last turn hy near three
1 lengths. Stephen sitting on him motionless,
without bracing him in the least. Cornelius
Ufok a good strong pull on Boston to within
j AOO yards of home, w hen he made play—both
I let out the last link—-now they are neck and
j neck—-now Boston gets Ins nose, in front, and
j now Duane—whips are at work, and the spurs
are drove in up to the rowel-heads—“Go it.
• Boston!”—“Hurrah for Duane!”—“Boston's got
him!”—-“No, Duane!” Tea thousand people
, shout like devils —a cold shiver—a suspension
; of breath ensues for an instant, and the heat is
; over. Huston wins In/ the l< noth of his nose !
As soon ns. the horses were taken up and
! brought hack to the Judges’ Stand. Dunne's
riderJainti.l from exhaustion! The hot sun
and strong pul! during the whole first heat had
j so worn him out, that after the first two miles
of the 4d heat were run, he was utterly pow
: erless, and unable to give his horse any sup
! port at all! Duane runs on his courage, and
I requires a strong steady pull to brace, him and
; keep his head up. Had Stephen been able to
take a pull on him on the luSt quarter of the
last mile, when lie was three lengths ahead—
precisely sueli a respite ns Cornelius gave
Boston—he would have won ilie* heat to a cer
tainty.
We have rarely w itnessed so much excite
ment about a race; at the least advantage gain
ed by either horse, the cheering was tremen
dous, and the odds veered to the right about.
The betting was general and heavy. The im
pression was universal, that but for his rider,
Duane must have won the 2d heat. Arthur,
Taylor chewed his tobacco a mighty deal tin-.
erthan ever, and even “the Napoleon of the;
Turf” seemed to anticipate a Waterloo defeat, i
Both horses were a good deal distressed. Du- ;
anerecovering best. Mr. however,!
thought his chance was out, as he had not |
been “bottled up” or restrained in the least.
Betting men, however, still fought very shy, j
: and no one hedged a dollar. When it was
known that John Hartman was to ride Duane j
(or the Ad heat, 100 to 75 was offered against;
lorn, as John was obliged to earrv between
; , ” nr hve pounds weight extra. "At lon-nli
; the noble animals came to the post, for the”
Third Heat.—Two or three fd Sl> pjnrts
occurred, Boston expressing a most dec bled I
and natural tinwilhreness p. repeat , four mile 1
BRUNSWIG Is. ADVOCATE.
heat three times, over a heavy track. Tin y
! finally got oft’. Duane leading by three long h-c
I lie might easily have made a gap on the Ist
! quarter, of half a dozen lengths, had John
j pressed him, but he pulled back to Boston. It
! was not until they came to the Ad quarter mile
; post, that Boston lapped him, but Duane came
I first to the stand. Oil the back side Boston
passed, and led by three lengths to the 4th
| quarter, when Duane crept up close. After a
i brush flow n the entire straight side, Duane
came in front just below the stand, but Bos
ton, in live or six strokes, regained the lead.
They kept up their run to the stand, when IMi
-1 »ne was up to Boston’s girths; the latter made
a slight gap in going round the turn, Cornelius
1 hugging the fence so close as to tear his linen
pants, and John here took Duane in hand for a
brush on the third quarter, where he collared
Boston, and they swung round into the straight
stretch neck and neck. The struggle up to
the stand was tremendous, but the extra weight
on Duane told in a third limit, and Boston won
hy about half a length, after one of the best
! contested and most interesting Four mile race
: we ever witnessed.
| Boston acquires more reputation by this
I race, than by running a heat in 7:40, having
. demonstrated that his foot is only equalled by
i his bottom; considering the state of the track,
| (he time was extraordinary. We give that of
• each mile, taken from the report of the official
| timer. Mr. Robert 1.. Stevens.
FIRST HEAT.
Time of Ist mile, 4:04
“ “ Second mile, 4:OA
“ “ Third mile, 1:55
“ “ Fourth mile, 1:54
Time of First heat, 7:54
SECOND HEAT.
Time of First mile, I:sft 1-4
“ “ Second mile, 1:54 1-4
“ “ Third mile, 1:50
“ “ Fourth mile, 4:00
Time of Second heat, 7:51
THIRD HEAT.
Time of First mile, 4:14 1-4
“ “ Second mile, 4:01 1-4
“ “ Third mile, 4:01
“ “ Fourth mile, 4:lft
Time of Third heat, 8:A0
After the Ist heat was over, Major Gieene
sold Duane to Mr. \Vm. N. Friend, the propri
etor of the Camden Course, near Philadelphia,
for 814,000. We are heartily glad to learn
that he will remain at the North.
I [From tin* New York Commercial Advertiser.]
AW FI'L CATASTROPHE.
The northern mail of this morning has
brought ns the following melancholy intelii
genee:
( From the Buffalo Commercial of Saturday.
I The steamboat North America is just in, by
I the passengers of which we learn the particu- i
i lars of a most heart-rending calamity —the de- \
shift ion of the new and etchant steamboat !
WASHIN(iT< )X, by lire, oir Silver Creek,
about A o’clock this.morning, with the estimat
ed loss of FIFTY LIVES.
; The alarm had been given at Silver Creek,
I as soon as the flames wove perceived from the
shore, and all the boats that could lie found!
: were sent to the rescue of the sufferers. There
' were only three skiffs, beside the yawl of the
\\ ashiiigton, w hich could he tlius used.
The North America took on board about 10
|of those saved, many of whom, including all
| the Indies, remained on shore. There were
six dead bodies picked up on the spot—those
jof four children and two women. One man
j died of injuries soon after reaching the shore,
: and one child was dead in its mother’s arms
| when she was taken out of the water,
j After picking up all the floating baggage
which could he seen, the hull—which was
still able to float the engine—was towed into
j .Silver Creek, where it sank in ti or 8 feet of
j water. The North America remained at Sil- ;
ver Creek, employed in this melancholy husi- j
| ness. (! or 7 hours, every tiling was done by
l (’apt. Edmonds ami his erew for the relief of J
the sufferers. Their prompt and etlieient ser- 1
vices are entitled to all praise.
Tin* ill-fated Washington was built at Ash-.
tabula last winter, and had made but one trip J
previous to her destruction. The tire caught |
near the boilers, and had made such progress
w hen discovered as to defy all attempts to ex
tinguish it. The helm was instantly put about,
and the boat he aded for shore, but m a few ino
-1 incuts the wheel ropes were burnt off, and she I
was rendered an unmanageable wreck.
The Washington left Cleveland, on her I
dew n passage from Detroit, on June 1 1th at 8, j
A. M. She proceeded on her way safely, tin- I
til Saturday, 2 o’clock, A. M., when she had j
arrived in the vicinity of Silver, Creek, about \
AA miles from Buffalo. The boat was now J
discovered to be on fire, which proceeded from j
beneath the boilers. The passengers were 1
alarmed, and aroused from their slumbers. [
Such a scene of confusion and distress ensu- i
, ed ns those only of mv readers can imagine j
who have been in similar circumstances.
1 Despair did not, however, completely pos-1
sess the mass until it became evident that the j
I progress of the flames could not be arrested.
From that moment the scene beggars all do- J
seription. Suffice it to say, that numbers pre
cipitated themselves from the burning muss in- •
'to the water, some ot them with a shriek of:
; despair, and others silently sunk beneath the!
waves; others, momentarily more fortunate, j
1 swam a short distance and drowned; others
still, on pieces of boards and wood, arrived on
the beach—yet some of these sunk into a wa
tery grave.
The small boat had by this time put off.
loaded with about 45 souls, for the shore.
These arrived safe, picking up one or two bv
the way. The writer of this article was one
of the number. Other small boats came to;
our assistance, w hich, together with the Wash-|
iugton’s boat, saved perhaps a majority of the 1
persons on board.
It is supposed that forty perished. It is im
possible to compute the precise number. Ma- \
ny remained on the boat until it was wrapped
in one sheet of flame. Os these there k rea
son to believe that numbers perished in the
conflagration, w hile others, half burned, pre
cipitated tncmselves into the watery element;
thus suffering the double agony of death, by
fire and water.
The utmost exertion was used to run her on
shore until it became necessary to stop the en
gine in order to let down the small boat, w hich i
having been done the fire had progressed so
far as to render it impossible again to start the
machinery.
1 will give a few particulars of the losses of
the passengers.
Air. Shudds is the only survivor of his fam- j
ilv, consisting of seven. A lady passenger
’ lost three children, a sister and a mother. Mr.
• Michael Parker lost his wife and parents, sis
ter and her child.
It is proper to sav, that while the writer alone
is responsible for the foregoing statements, all
the survivors to whom the paper has been sub
; mitted concur in the parts set forth.
11. J. JUDD, of Garretsviile.
j Many were the heart-rending scenes that
! occurred in this terrible catastrophe. An En
! glish family, consistingof a man, his w ife and
I two children carne on board the boat at Tole
i do. While the fire was raging, the man work
i ed by the side of our informant till they could
i stav on board no longer. Then he and his
; wife, threw their children overboard and jump
ed in after them. The father and two children
were drowned—the mother was saved.
Several passengers went into convulsions
with terror, on the deck, at the outset, and per
ished m the flames.
Anew ly married couple, supposed to have
J embarked at Erie, jumped overboard in each
other’s arms and sunk together.
Prince Tcllcyrand breathed his last on
i the evening of the 17th May. He had
; been out in his carriage on the previous
Sunday; but a slight sore produced an
1 anthrax, or gangrene, and he was tlius
! carried off in hisß4th year. He had for
j some time written and addressed to the
I Pope a retraction of his conduct at (lie fa
! motis ceremony of the Federation, where
! lie forgot his episcopal ordination, and
condescended to bless that democratic,
and somewhat heathen ceremony, lie
received absolution extreme unction, and
died in the peace of the catholic Church;
although the Archbishop of Paris, to whom
the Prince had scuta copy of his letter
to tlie Pope, kept aloof from his bedside.
King Louis Phillipe,however visited the
deathbed of the veteran statesman, whose
respect for etirpiette and courtly ideas,
I was manifest even in his dying moments.
| He insisted on presenting to the King all
I who happened to he with him, and had
! not undergone that ceremony, and lie ac
| knowledged the King's visit not as the act
jof warm and private friendship, hut as
“a great honor done to his house.” Mad
ame Adelaide, sister of the King, also
visited the Prince. Messrs. Theirs and
Mole also attended his last moments.—
Maming (Jhronirlr.
In anariidcon this subject, the Cour
ier Francais says: He quitted life with a
calmness that could not have been exceed
ed by the purest conscience. In death he
preserved all the stoicism (impassibility)
ot his life. He went out of the world like
a true courtier, hy using flattering words
to his King, and like a true diplomatist,
by ncgociating with the Pope w ith whom,
as a consecrated Bishop, a married priest,
and excommunicated Catholic, he had
many accounts to settle.”
Upon the demise of this extraordinary
; man Le Temps remarks‘Am his statue
jinny he inscribed the words, ‘ the expir
ing genius of aristocracy.”’ His body,
followed hy a splendid funeral cortege, a
(iiiong w hich were the royal carriages, was
i deposited in the church of the Assumption
on the 2fttli May. His age, it will lie
noted was not extreme, hut his life has al
ways been spent in public. Burn in 1754,
and educated lor the church in 178(1, he
was appointed general agent for the coun
try. Jn 1 788 lie was consecrated bishop of
: Autuii. In 171 H lie was excommunicated
by the Pope for the consecration of French
bishops, independent ol Rome, and resign
ing Bis bishopric lie was elected a ineiii
j her of the Paris Directory . In 171)2, rc-
I turning from England where lie had been
jsent on a secret mission, he w as indebted
|to Diintou lor an escape from massacre,
lie fled to this country, and remained here
l till 17'.Mi, w hen he was recalled By a de
gree of the convention. In 171)7 lie was
appointed Minister of Foreign A Hairs,
which station lie retained under Napoleon's
• Consulate. 1811 ft, lie was released by the
| Pope from his ecclesiastical!ies, aiid mar
; t ied. In IBW> Napoleon, Emperor, cre
ated him Prince of Benevento, and Grand
j Chamberlain of the Empire. In 1814 1m
! " as appointed President of the Provisional
j Government of France. In 1815 lie was:
j again Foreign Minister under Louis the I
Eighteenth, hut resigned before the end i
of the year, lie remained near the throne !
however as Chamberlain, till 18ftl), when
he was appointed hy Louis Phillippo, Am
bassador to London, where lie remained
till 18ftl. Since then he has lived in re
tirement. In Talleyrand two or three
generations, and more dynasties have seen
the most remarkable man of their era.
Ihe Arkansas 1 raueuv.—\\ c hud
in the Natchez Free Trader, all the prom
inent particulars of the fatal affair be
tween the speaker of the Arkansas Legis
lature and Maj. Anthony, developed in the
late trial. It seems, from the testimony,
that the deceased. Major A. was speaking
on a bill relative to granting premiums for
killing wolves: the bill required that an
affidavit sljould be made before a magis
trate. before the premium should be paid:
Mr. Anthony moved to strike out the word
“magistrate,” and insert the “President
of the Real Fstate Bank.” The speaker
immediately asked, “Do voii mean to in
sult the chair? if you do, you will take it
hack very quick." Mr. A. disclaimed'
anv insult, but observed that lie “thought
the certificates should be signed by a
man of great dignity.” As soon as these
words were uttered the Speaker left the
chair, and as he descended drew his Bowie
knife, having a blade about nine inches
long. .Mr. A. then left his seat and drew
his knife,(blade twelve inches long,) then
advanced towards the speaker, nourished
the knife, made two passes, and struck
him on the arm. Wilson retreated a few
paces, and as he was in the act of again ’
advancing, Anthony threw his knife and
afterwards his chair at him. Wilson then
rushed towards Anthony, who immediate
ly picked up another chair to defend him
self. Wilson caught it, and made a thrust
wit'n his knife underneath the chair, which
I entered Anthony’s breast, who immedi
! ately fell and expired.
The verdict of the jury was, “guilty of
excusable homicide.” The prisoner was
then discharged. In speaking of Major
Anthony, the Gazette observes:—He was
an officer in tlie war of 1812 with Great
Britain, and was one of the gallant defend
ers of Fort Sandusky: lie subsequently
served in the Creek .war under General
Jackson, where he acquitted himself in
such a manner as to give entire satisfac
tion to that distinguished military chief.”
[Correspondence of the New York Express.]
Liverpool, May 211th.
The arrival of the Sirius and Great
Westi ■m steamships, in this country—the
latter having completed the out and home
voyage in thirty days—has been the uni
versal theme of conversation in Liverpool
connected as are its interests so imme
diately with America. Two companies
have already been formed fiere for the
purpose of placing steam-ships on the
Liverpool and New York line, and no ex
ertions will he wanting to equip them im
mediately for sea. Avery line vessel,
nearly as large as the Great Western,
built on speculation twelve months back
hy an eminent merchant of this town, is
forthwith to be placed on the station, and
will probably sail hence for your city in
the course of a month or two; the inte
rim being employed in pushing forward
tlie arrangements respecting the others
which are to succeed her.
The good people of Liverpool exhibit
considerable jealousy of the start which
Bristol has taken in navigating the Atlan
tic with steam. The two towns, a quar
ter of a century ago, were the rivals of
cm li other in trade and commerce; hut
the gigantic strides w hich Liverpool has
made during the last twenty years, une
qualled hy the history of any commercial
spot in the world; with the exception per
haps of New York, has thrown Bristol in
to tlie back ground. In that city, howev
er, owing to the great success of the
Great Western, (the exclusive property, 1
believe, of Bristolians) business has re
ceived an impetus to which for years it
has been a stranger; and this combined!
with the (ireat Western Railway, which'
approaches its completion, and connects
Bristol with London, makes the Liverpool
merchants a little fidgotty on the subject
of their commercial superiority.
[Extract from a Liverpool Letter of Ist June,
received in this city.]
“Our cotton market has been animated
since the circular was issued: tin* causes
stated in our last being in full operation,
and inducing a large business. This
week another cjiuse has developed itself,
it being now understood that tlie agents for
the I mted States Bank have granted fa
cilities to large buyers, which have hith
erto been unknown to the trade, hy draw
ing Uj•'>ii them at three months, a course
which may serve their purpose now, when
money is abundant, hut which, ere long,
will he discountenanced by tlie Bank of
England and tlie other Banks; meanwhile
the import:; are becoming large, stocks
will immediately increase, and lower pric
es, we feel convinced, will he current be
fore long. —[Savannah Georgian.
Moiiii.e, June If).
Robbery of tiif. Hximrss Mail. On
the night of the lAth iust. the Express
Mail between this place (Nashville) and
Louisville, was robbed near Bacon Creek,
ivy. The rider lad was forcibly taken
from his horse, and the mail taken off in
to the woods, where it was found the next
morning, about u mile from the road—the
hag cut, and tiie contents of the letters
carried off. The letters having been cut
and otherwise mutilated, show that heavy
remittances in the shape of money, chocks
post notes, (Ac. had been enclosed from
New Orleans nn the Bth and Kth, and
from Mobile on the !)th and 10th.
Banks, Brokers, Merchants, and other
dealers in Northern funds, will do well to
he on their guard.—[Nashville paper.
A Daring Attempt at Robbery.
'Fin* Banking House of the Bank of tlie
State of Georgia, was entered between
the closing of business on Saturday and
! Monday morning supposed to be during
i Sunday. The outer door of the Vault
was forced open—nearly all the drawers
i °f the Officers desks opened and search
| ed—the inner iron door presented the ob
stacle to the villains entering the Vault,
and the Bank has sustained no loss, not a
j dollar having been stolen, ns they were
unable to obtain access to the money. The
following paper was left on the table of the
President directly in front of his chair,
written in a plain bold hand:
“ 1 hat iron door made a complete April
Fool of us.” And on the reverse of the
sheet, the following. “It is hard to kick j
against the pricks—Bad Luck.”
| The citizens should be upon the alert!
—there are no doubt, incendiaries among i
its, who failing to obtain money, may re-!
sort to other means.
All vagrants should he arrested and
examined.—[Savannah Georgian.
1 he i\. V . (.our. and Enqr. announces,
that its new steam press, (he “Great West
er u,” "ill be in operation on the Ist July,'
and will print six thousand sheets in one ■.
hour, or one hundred sheets in one'
minute. ‘ i
Ihe Bowie Knife. A corresponden
of the Baltimore Transcript, communi'
cates some interesting f acts respecting
the origin and first use «f ,h e K owl e
knife, being a sketolr of Mr. Bowie the
inventor. He was one of that class of
men who are found only on the frontiers
of civilization in the Western States
a second Daniel Boon—who had wander
ed from Kentucky into the western and
w ilder parts of Arkansas, where he could
enjoy uninterrupted the pleasures of the
For some mon/|h he lived alone
supplying all his wants by his success in
hunting, till Ins solitude was broken in bv
a wandering blacksmith. Bowie had long
wanted a weapon with which he could
" it h greater safety attack the furious bears
which lie found in the low marshy grounds
thickly with canes, and where
his rifle was useless. He soon struck a
bargain with the blacksmith, supplying
him with provisions and skins, and he
in return, under Bowie’s directions, out
of an old file fashioned the formida
ble and since famous Bowie knife. The
instrument was twelve iwches long, its
point crooked and hollowed at the back,
cutting both ways, like a two edged sword.
—lt was two inches broad at the hilt, and
a proportional thickness.
Mr. Bowie, wearied of a life of soli
tude, after a time returned to tlie haunts
ol civilization, when he visited tlie town
of Alexandria on the banks of the Red
River, where he learned that his brother
was about to fight a duel. He hastened
to the battle-ground, where he found his
brother and his antagonist in the act of
taking aim at each other with their rifles.
Ilis brother’s rifle missed fire, and his an
tagonist’s shot passed harmless. Bowie
then stepped up, and offered his trusty
weapon, observing that it never failed. It
was accepted, and the other parfy provid
ed himself with a butcher’s cleaver, and
the murderous conflict was renewed. Col.
Bowie killed his antagonist, and ever af
ter retained the fatal knife. Soon after
he visited Philadelphia, where he engaged
a mechanic to make a more perfect speci
men of his brother’s invention, who re
tained a model, which was soon"sent to the
manufacturers nt Smithfield, where thou
sands have since been made. Col. Bowie
was killed at the taking of tlie Alamo,
where Col. Crockett fought and died so
bravely. He was murdeted in his bed,
where he was confined by sickness at the
time of the attack. This is all ofhis Bi
ography,‘He lived and he died,’ and though
his name is known in every corner of tlie
United States, lie did no act while liviiiir
which should distinguish him from the
common mass of men. Ilis reputation
fills every corner of the United States;
hut it is a reputation which is not to he
desired, and was one which was not right
fully liis own.
i Respecting Mr. Bowie, the inventor of
the knife, the correspondent before allud
ed to, gives the following sketch of his
character: “ Mr. Bowie is well known in
Louisiana, as an intelligent planter ; kind
and affable in his manners and an enemy
to violence. But lie is also known as a
man of courage and nice honor; never
seeking a difference, and a peace maker
between others. When a real affront is
given, he sees that it is righted. He has
had liis single combat. While in Havana,
many years since, n Spanish gentleman
questioned in his presence tlie soundness
of American courage. Mr. Bowie de
clared himself to he a native of the Unit
ed States; the Spanish gentleman reiterat
ed liis doubts; Mr. Bowie threw down tlie
glove,—knives were selected; —Mr. Bow
ie desired that their feet might he shack
led; tlie allusion was understood and tlie
request acceded to.— Mr. Bowie lives.”
From tlie Jacksonville Courier Extra, June 21.
Another Indian Fight.— By tlie
Steamer Santee wc have just received in
telligence of a battle with the Indians, cn.
day before yesterday, within a few miles
of Newnansville. Capt. Beal of the Dra
goons, with ft!) or 40 men, Lieut. Howe
of the same corps, with 12 men, and Capt.
Walker a volunteer, fell in with a body of
about GO Indians, who gave them a warm
salute. Walker was killed, and 5 of Beal’s
command were wounded. Five horses
were killed:—among them Beal's and
Howe’s. Several Indians said to he kill
ed.
Henderson, whose trial for the for
ging of Treasury Notes, was to have com
menced on the 29th inst. in Washington,
has escaped Iroin prison, it is said, by the
agency of a beautiful young lady, to whom
j he was engaged to he married.
A correspondence very complimentary
! to Capt. Iloskin is published in the Bris
tol papers. The city authorities and cit
| izens of that p/Vice was so well pleased
With the reception of the Great Western
at N. York, that at a public meeting con
vened for the purpose, a vote was passed
acknowledging their sensibility to the com
pliment. The proprietors also determin
ed immediately to lay the keel of anew
steamer, to be called “ The City of New
York.”
Goldsmith. It is related ofGohlsmith,
as a characteristic of his indolence .and
carelessness, that his mode of extinguish
ing his candle, when he was in bed when
lie was inclined to sleep, was by throwing
his slipper at it, which.in consequence
was usually found in the morning lying
near the overturned candlestick daubed
with grease,