Brunswick advocate. (Brunswick, Ga.) 1837-1839, July 05, 1838, Image 2

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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,