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rrsusDED ir
KEAN U CHARLTON,
Thursday Evening.
From the HaUtmore Morning Chronicle.
Sib,—A young man, who former
ly boarded in the same same house
with myself, on leaving it for the
West Indies, put into my hands a
journal of his travds through the
Western Country, in the last part of
which, I found the following tale,
which if you think worth publishing,
is at your service. T.
WILLIA.mTnd MUIY.
A TALE DY A TRAVELLER.
In the spring of 1818, I set out on
an excursion to the Western states
•for the purpose of finding a spot
where, retired and secluded from
the bustle of a metropolis, I might
spend the residue .of my life. The
difficulties at that time to be cncoun*.
tered by travellers through the west
ern states were many and frequently
insurmountable—the distance from
place to place, the scarcity of water
in many parts, and the danger ot be
ing massacred by the Indians added
horror to the fatigue and privations
to be endured. 1 had heard with in
difference, others recount their ma
ny hardships in traversingloc wilds
of America, but the reality far sur
passed any account that i had either
beard or read. For days together
you might travel and not meet a hu
man being, save the savages. Now
and then a wigwam or indian hut,
Would,break upon the view, but even
in those hovels there was such a
sameness that the eye found no re
lief from the change, and nothing
but extreme hunger, would induce
travellers to partake of tlie homely
fare, which was in the power of these
lords of the forest to offer- and the
open air is often preferred to a shel
ter beneath their roofs.
ft was in the beginning of June
when I reached the Missouri—die
mornings were delightful, and had
the most cxlviltarating effeef on the
system. Here a vast concourse of
■. nature's feathered songsters carol
• their melodious notes, and almost ob
scure the first rays of the sun by their
aerial gambols. The dark foliage of
the expanding oaks, hang like the
curtain of evening over the road, and
the forest poplars regale the senses
with thuir flowers and perfume. But
the meridian of the day was rather
unpleasant, the heat at that hour be
ing intense. It was very sultry when
1 crossed from Tennessee to the Ar
kansas—the morning had been ra
ther wanner than heretofore, and the
day became exceedingly oppressive.
I bad travelled fast, in hopes of get
ting to some civilized hut, where 1
mijdit refresh my drooping spirits,
ana procure some food for my horse;
but not until I had rode more than
fifty mi'es, and my Horse ready to
drop from under me, did I meet with
any thing like a comfortable house.
About six o’clock, however, I came
to a lovely little cottage, where tho’
there were no statuted gates nor ser
vants in livery, every thing around
seemed to say, that comfort dwell
within. \\ hen I rode up to the Utile
mansion my arrival was announced
by the backing of a dog, and in a few
seconds, an old and venerable man
stepped out and welcomed me into
the house. There was a little garden
containing a few vegetables, before
tho door, enclosed by a fence, which
Appeared to have cost much labor,
though scarcely strong enough ton;- -
sut the slightest opposition. The
old man stood holding my hand in
his, led me into a room, where lie in
troduced me to an old lady, whom
he said was his wife ; and pointing
next toa young woman, who sat in a
corner of the room, he said, « that is
my dang ter.” He drew a stool and
asked me to sit down, then turning
to hi $ wife he said, “ I fear from this
stranger's look, that he is so much
fatigued as to make a nap-desirable;
prepare a bed for him and get some
cider, that he may refresh himself.”
1 looked around and saw a bed clean
ly sheeted, .itul as the old ladv bid
f'* e f ,r «t word of her husband sprang
to obey his request, I asked him to
countermand nis orders, as I was not
so much fat gued as to desire to sleep
before nine o’clock, that being my
«sual hour lor retiring. ♦* Well,
(said he) I am glad to find you so
touch better than you look, it has
been a long time since i had it in my
power to converse with a stranger.
, e are so distant from any village,
that for a whole season wo sec no
person but our neighbor?. About
three years ago, the road which bro’t
you ficre was travelled a good deal,
bat since, there has been a shorter
route discovered, and the old road is
C r .°'vn up. If 1 iu«j take the
r '» 1 would like to ask what
* . y« u are from? I came from
J ir 6*oia> and although it has been ana
...a*'
Tu ray
pleased to «ee any
person from that part of thecountry,
it reminds me of old 1 repli
ed, that it would be a gratification to
me, if it were in my power to give
him any information relative to his
native state, but as I was a Baltimo
rean, I knew nothing of that state,
more than others through which 1 had
passed on my journey. At the men
tion of Baltimore, 1 perceived an in
terchange of looks between the aged
pair, and the old lady, unable to go
vern her feelings longer, drew close
to my side and said, with an air of
delight, “0, sir, 1 am from Balti
more—but as my James just observ
ed of his native state, it has been so
long since I was there, that I shook
not knowa soul. My father’s name
was Butler, but he and my mother
both died when I was young, and I
married James before 1 was quite six
teen, so that a person who is now
fifty-seven, cannot recollect much
of what happened then.” 1 express
ed my astonishment at their having
chosen a spot so remote from any
city, after having been raised in the
most thickly populated parts of the
United States. “ Yes, (said James'
but I was a young man, and fount
that I could with much difficufty gei;
along, after 1 got married, and the
weaving business, which I followed,
was dull at that time. I had heart
much about the goodness of the lands
in the western country, and I iho’t
that if I sold my little stock and plan
tation, its proceeds, together with fif
ty dollars which I had saved, I might
come out here and do better. At first
I was dissatisfied, but Polly said, it
was better for us to live where wc
could make enough to eat and wear,
than to be where we should see so
many fine things, without having the
means to procure any of them—that
here we should never have the sheriff
on our backs.*’ Here the conversa
tion was interrupted by Mrs. South
erland (for tliat was their names) nb
serving, “ that if they intended to
provide any supper for the stranger,
it was high time for her to stir her
self.”
James then resumed liis narrative ;
It was with much difficulty wc ••cach
ed this place, but it seems to have
been the will of Providence that we
should settle here, for it was our in
tention to have gone on until wo
siiould meet some one who had land
to sell cheap, in a thick'y settled
neighborhood. But if you remember,
just before you came to our hill, there
was a stream of water—well, as we
were crossing that place, the wivter
had risen so high from the very many
rains, that our foremost horse was
drowned, and it was with great diffi
culty we saved the other two. 1 saw
sonic hewn pieces of timber floating
down the stream, a;.d judged it to be
parts of a dam which was broken by
the freshet. I accordingly walked
up the stream about a mile ami a half,
and discovered it to he as I had sus
pec cd. There was a number of per
sons looking at the rains ; this was a
delightful sight for me, ns I had fear
ed we should be compelled to wait
two or three days for the water to
(all. On making known rny condi
tion to the miller, he kindly offered
me every assistance, and invited me
to stay at his house. After I had
been there two days, I mentioned my
views for travelling—he told me, that
if land was all I wanted, 1 need not
go much further, that I could get for
nothing —that the Indians bad aban
doned it, and there was no owner for
it. 1 consulted my wife on the sub*
ject, ami ue agreed to take (he mil
ler’s advice. Accordingly 1 came to
this spot and put up this little house
which we now live in,and after maik
mg the trees, as the line, fur about
twelve acres, 1 went to work and
have been able to get a living over
-ince. No one has ever disputed my
till** to the laud, and if it should ever
be the ca»e that it is disputed., wc
have but a short time to live, and af
ter we are gone I care not who gets it.
Bv this tune the sun had got low,
and Polly announced to us (hat sup
per was ready, and invited us out to
partake of it beneath a largo poplar,
which spread it brandies over (he
Utile cottage. The old gentleman
sail) grace in an audible voice, and
afle: speaking of (lie difference be
tween the homely fare that I was a
bout to get, and the luxuries which (
had been accustomed t»', helped me
to a wooden bowl of milk, with a de
sire that I would help myself to bread
and butter. 1 did so, and a heartier
meal I never ate before. Ah ! thought
I, if this be the blessing of poverty,
let my lot be that of the poor; for
what is wealth if it cannot procure
happiness! Surely the proudest mo
narch that ever reigned, would envy
the joy that this serlucd pair fed in
their state of poverty. What tho’
a thousand sheep and herds of swine,
be subject to the appetite of the epi
cure, it it be uot accompanied with a
heart which overflows with gratitude
to the giver of all blessings, and a
mind freed from the burden of lust;
rather let me eat a morsel attended
with a .blessing from heaven, than
fare sumptuously with the wicked
Jyery day.
f Thfreveniugwas delightful, for there •
trJs not t cloud to obscure the etbe- Y
rial aky,and ell was quiet as death, <
save the gentle rustling of the leaves <
which overshadowed us. Mary,the 1
daughter of this aged pair,had all the <
while been silent, she ate sparingly, I
and never seemed to notice any thing i
of what was said or done. Alter sup- i
per she removed from the stool and (
sat herself dawn upon the grass, re
clining her head against the trunk of
the tree: she appeared to be about >
sixteen years of age, and I think,
one of the most beautiful creatures
that I ever beheld. To describe her,
would be heightening the picture
Petrarch gives of his Laura. But he
• who saw her then, could only ima
• guie what she must have been before
the commencement of those sorrows
which had blighted the fairest flower
that ever grew. She was tall and
?;raccful —symmetry was in every
imb, and her features were cast in
nature’s most partial mould—a: d,
could a spark of animation have lit
■ her eyes, their lustre would have per
; fected this model of beauty; but a
melancholy gloom hung over her
: countenance, and her jndid checks
s only added to the dej-ecticn which ap-
I peared so visible in her latge dark
1 eyes. /
t 1 noticed that she appmred absorb*
• ed in thought, and her spirits seemed
, much depressed; and ai Itermanner
1 appeared to assume a change, my
> whole attention became $ x’d upon her.
t She would at one moment appear to
■ be thinking intently, and at another
to chaunt a solemn dirge. A pair of
; scissors were supended to her frock,
with which she carved some letters
on the tree, and then arose and walk
i cd to a little hill where there was a
, rose bush in bloom; she plucked a
i flower from the bush, and placing it
in her bosom, glanced an eye upon
the spot where it grew, and drooped
it. I was, now no longer unable to
account for Mary’s strange conduct,
I for I concluded that she was the child
of sorrow, and her aged parents who
remained silent during this scene,
now unfolded to me the mystery of
their child’s misfortunes. “ I per
ceive, said Janes, ‘that you notice
Mary’s strange actions. Ah ! sir, the
joys of this life are fe.”. lam now
far advanced in years and have learn
ed from experience how little reli
ance ought to be placed on the things
of this world. Mary is the young st
of three children with which we were
blessed. Onr oldest was a boy, who
died sooit after we came to live here,
and his sister followed in a short time
after. As parents generally do, we
had built our hopes on our children,
and fondly exp. cted that, in tile de
cline of life, they world be a suppor*
to our infirmities—but hopes are fal
lacious and every tine that we a-f
deceived it should only impress our
minds with the necessity of fixing
our mind on things beyond this world
Willia n, was my son’s name, and
Polly the daughter’*; the one called
after his father and the other after
his mother, Mary was born after
the decease of (lie other children,
and as " chad no other on whom to
devide our affections, she became
the idol of our hearts. She was a
sweet child, and the praise lavished
on her by travellers; was prehaps a
means of increasing our affection
for her. About two y eai s before the
birth of Mary a minister of the gos
pel, named Parker settled near us
—he was a charming man, and as lie
brought with him many comforts of
life, ho had it in his power to do a
great ileal of good. Kvery fortnight
he preached at the Mill, where all
themeighbors went to hear him. He
was not with us long before he lost
his wife, and was left a widower with
his son* From tlio intimacy of our
families, his son William, as soon as
he was able to. run about, came to
sec us every day, and was like one of
our own family At this time .Vary
was burn, ami as Willian was only
two years older, they soon become
companions and grew up together
like brothers and sisters. This inti
macy‘continued until their attach
ment for each other became indis
soluble, ami it became the. fondest
wish of the father of William and
one’s, to see them at some further
day united in the bonds of wedlock,
■—“ But,sir”-here the old man’s
speech failed him and the tears
trickled down his care worm check
but soon recovering he resumed:
“Pardon the weekness of human nit
tore; it yet grieves me to tell the talc
of my sorrows, although I know that
these trials were intended by our
heavenly father for our good When
William came to the age of fourteen
he was taken ill of a fever, of which
he died after three weeks confine
ment. Ah! to me it was a sorrowful
time—he was to us just the same as
if he had been our own son—yes,
he was more, for on his hapiness de
pended our only child’s, and we knew
no difference between them. Mary
could neither sleep nor drink during
William's confinement, but was al
ways with him I never shall forget
the day on which William died—it
was on.a Sunday evening. I had
just entered tho room toask how he
did, but he was then under the influ
ence of death—his hands were clasp
ed ia Mary’s aad the only word# 1 >
vV" ;**
heard him utter were, “Mary I am
dying,” andia a few minutes after he
expired. Ah! what a trial was this
for a father! In vain did I Struggle
with my feelings, for the scene was
too impressive to allow of a moment’s
reflection. 1 beheld the fairest of
my hopes blasted and the inevitable
destruction es a daughter stared me
in the face —Mary fainted in my
arms and appeared to all arounds as
dead. A few moments however
proved that she was not gone-jJjjlt
oh! had she nave died, it
been belter, for her reason
and she has ever since been as yon
now see her. At the request of
William’s father he was buried here,
and that is his g ave where you see
the rose bush growing. Mary will
suffer ho one to go neafit but herself,
for she supposes that William is ./«*
sleep, and whenever there is a knock
at the door she flies to meet him.”
This history was given me from
the lips of this pious old gentleman,
with a lane and gesture that added
an interest beyond what I can de
scribe. Had I read it, my feelings
would have been different, but I re
tired forest witha heart filled with
sorrow for the good man’s afflictions.
and if ever I devoutly asked a favor
of heaven, it was to give me a heart
like Jaiues Southerland’s. In my
reflection an Mary’s situation. I
composed the following lines on a
leaf of my memorandum book ;
A'h! who can describe the Maniac’s dream,
Who’s mind is bewilder’d with care—
Or trace from his faint memory a scene,
That resembles the best of dispair?
Twas just when the son tripp’d the trees,
That shaded the cottage of love*
As Maty reclin’d at her ease,
The image of Noah’s mild dove.
She would speak of the love that she bore,
For William when tender and small;
And oft at each tap at the door.
The name of William she’d call.
She chanted the wild thrush’s song, i
And carv’d on the poplar a name;
‘Twas the name of one absent two long, ,
For a bosom the victim of pain.
Then turning, she gaz’d on a hillock near
by.
On which there were flowers in bloom;
Oh! William (she said) ah, why didst thou
die?
Arise from thy cold clodded tomb.
B it hush! tiejs dreaming—do not awake-
For Mary still guards thy lone herd;
Not a sigh she will heave thy slumbers to
break,
But tenderly pluck the weeds from the
bed.
The next morning I arose and sad
tiled my horse, who had been tied
with a long rope to the fence of a
small clover field, where he had gra
zed during the night My kind en
tertainers arose as soon as they heard
me up, and insisted on my staying
to breakfast, to which I assented.
After family worship, Mrs. Souther
land gut breakfast ready, which con
sisted us some bacon and eggs, and
a basin of good rich milk. 1 ate
heartily and took my leave of the
family, not however without feelings,
such as I never before experienced.
They wished me well, and hoped
that if I over came that way again I
would not neglect to call on them.
But that was a pleasure f did not at
that time expect ever to experience.
1 now leave this hospitable cottage,
to carry the reader rapidly over a
large trace of country, without no
ticing any thing thatoccurcd during
my travels, but hasten to return to
the scone that had continued to oc
cupy my mind for nearly six months.
I went into Mississippi territory, and
as fi\r down the river as Ncvv-Or
leans, and as I was no place where
I thought I could spend ray life, as
agreeable as in Baltimore, I return
to my native city. The country pos
sesses many charms for a citizen, but
as soon as the desire for variety is
over he longs lo rerurn, to mingle
again with the populace,
I would notbring the reader back
with me to Mr, Southerland’s.
When I rode up to the little gate ray
horse appeared to recollect that we
had been here before, and that he
too had experienced hospitality. The
little dog at first barked but soon re
cognized me. The door now open
ing, I believed James coming with
an outstretched hand to receive me.
“Hal (he exclaimed) well, whe ‘‘vou
left us, I thought I should never'see
you again, but my old woman often
said that she thought vou would come
this way again but t'did not think
she would guess so true, t ome in,
come in, how glad the old woman
will be to see you. Come and tell
her where yon have been and what
you have seen and heard.” [obeyed
and received (he congratulations of
them both. But there was one less
in the family than when I was there
be'ore. My mind was on the torture
to find cut the cause of Mary’s ab
sence, for the looking glass which
hung in the room was covered with a
piece of old crape. To enquire af
ter her would be to open afr«sh the
wounds of sorrow, and for me to re-
main ignorant of her fate long, was »
impossible. My wish however was h
soon gratified by the 010 lady’s say’* *
lag Mary frequently asked after a
the gentleman who staid witU us, e
•-.nd, hehad gonarfo see W'illiany”
And where is Mary? said I. “Ah! <
replied Mr. Southerland, she is no *
more! About two months after yon ,
left us, she became so tnelanthoty* ]
that she neither ate nor drank any <
thing but pined away until she died j
She is now by the side of W illiam
and ! trust that they are both inhea- .
ven. She was a good child, and was
always fond of reading her Bible un
til she lost her senses* We arc now
. alone, and when it shall please the
: Lord to take os away, we shall join
1 our children in another and a bet*
i ter world.” I went on to look at tne
graves of the unfortunate W illi tm
and Mary, and planted a willow at
the head of each. The winter had
robbed the rose bush ol all its verdue
but the fostering care of Mary was
i still visible about its roots.
I tarried at the cottage that night
i and part of the next day, when I
. bade my hospitable friends adieu lor
i ever.
From the. Vcw-i’ot h Commercial Advertiser.
Claims under the Florida
Treaty.
Erroneous impressions appear to have
been circulated on this subject, and wheth
er they have been spread by accident or
design, it is the duty and interest, of all
bona fide claimant®, to rectify those errors,
us v\ el 1 as to guard their rcspecnliee inter
ests from sacrifice, as to enable those who
may feel a desire to speculate in these
rhlitns, to make their calculations on some
thing that approximates to mercantile
data.
Five millions of dollars are appropriated
by the Florida Treaty, for the payment of
all the claims of our citizens against Spain,
whief sum is generally considered inade
quate for this purpose; and indeed, if the
claims were as great as have been stated
in our newspapers, five millions of dollars
would not discharge an eighth of the de
mand. But the following observations,
may, perhaps, throw some light on the
subject, or at all events lead to its inves
ligation, by individuals better qualified
than the writer to do it justice.
The report of the Secretary of State,
made in May of last year, and Ordered to
he printed by the Senate in February last,
exhibits one hundred and forty two clams,
either supported by documents, or where
the amounts were specified. Those 142
claims amount to g7,4i9,58t). It has
been said their are upward: of seven hun
dred other claims, for which documents
have not yet been produced, and it lias
likewise been suggested in our owhr.ews.-_
paper, that whereas the one hundred and
forty-two claims noticed in the Secretary
of Slate’s report, average 52,33 d dollars,
it follows that the TOO other claims on a
similar average will n*ake the whole about
forty six millions of dollars. Notwith
standing the preposterous nature of such
calculations, they have been going the
rounds of our papers, and many persons
have taken up an idea that they are cor
rect—Their absurdity 1 think is manifest,
fur the following reasons.
First. Among the 142 claims mention
ed in the Secretary of State’s report, are
included nearly all the heaviest preten
sions of the claimants—for instance the
claim of VV. I). Uobir.son, for 564,000 dol
lars; R. W. Meade, 400,000; Owners of
the ship Tyre, of Providence, 400,000;
of the ship Molly, of Philadelphia, 230,
000; of the schooner Herman, of Boston,
220,000; of the ship Fiiigle, of New-York,
222,000/ Jas. Barry, 214,702; Owners of
the Stagg of Norfolk, 160,000; ©fthe ship
Pegasus of New-York, 150,000; of the
ship Sarah of New.Y'ork, 152,620; of the
ship Mary of New York 170,090; ,of
barque Peggy of Philadelphia, 133,500;
cf the Semiramis as Philadelphia, 126,000
of ship Albany of New-York, 110,000;
John Mallabay of New-York, 100,000;
ship Hercules, Courtney, of Rhode-Island
100-000; fillip Hunter of New-York, 100,
000; ship Republican of Baltimore,-100,
240; and several other claims of near 100,
000 dollars each. Any average, there
fore, founded on these large claims, ap
plied to the general mas;} of 7 to 800
claimants, is surely ridiculous, more es
pecially when we reflect that some of the
142 claims have already been compounded
with the belligerent panics, others may be
seriously curtailed, at d some may be to
tally rejected by the Commissioners.
Secondly, The cases of capture on the
high seas, and of seizures ad condemn*
lions of property in Spanish ports, involve
some intricate and important points, as
relates to the laws of nations, to the usa
ges ot civilized powers in similar cases,
to municipal regulations, and finally, to
the proofs that can now be brought for
ward, to show that the property illegally
sacrificed was bona fide American.
It will not be contended, for instance,
that because underwriters insured prop
erty under the American flag against nl!
ristjues, ai jl for which they received in
many cases an extravagant prenfmm, for
voyages not legal, they nave now a right
to claim restitution under the provisions
of the Florida treaty
I know of several large shipments mad.
to South America, in American and other
neutral vessels on the faith of certain roy
al privileges, which had been granted to
,the favorites of the Spanish Monarch ami
the Prinpe of Peace—those privilege;,
were sold tonentrals.andinsomc instances
the conditions were violated by the non
tral shipper, by shipping articles in tfn
cargo not specified in the privileges; by
fraudulent entries, after the vessel ari
ved at her destined port, and in fact b\
violating the Spanish revenue taws. TVi J
it be contended that because the cupidity
of the parties got their property into di
ficuity, and instance seized and condem
ned by Spanish tribunals, they have now
a right to restitution under the provis
ions of the Florida treaty ? If property,
under the cir’umstancea just mentioned
has been insured in the officers, and the
under writers have been compelled tojpay
the parties conformable to the conditions
of the policy of insurance, can they now
legitimately claim tbe benefit of the-^lors.
jf ■ ®
ida treaty for such losse* .-M
how many cases of the nuult» #
ed to have already been hn? B fto'
or are intended to be prodS'B P ul
ance companies, but that S uA r,c:
exist is well known to the v.v ■ < r
I know likewise that * B su
claimants have exhibited suSB {
extravagant character, such » B /*,
legally sustained, and never “ 0 B “
mined even by mercamie*,°bß
For example, a vessel sails r?£B ff
cd States with a cargo w i * ®B f3r
wa* §5500, and the value Vl
§3500 site is captured ciu
Lurope by a French priva-J. fl P;
u Spanish port, and there' f fl dcl
and sold under the decrees J B
tribunal—the owners exhih.tfl
gainst the Spanish goVernrr.c B
rigmal cost of vessel and care B W<
mages. In the statement * c f B
some.curious items are broJ.fl
such_ us a performs accZfl '*•'
showing what the cargo -> ■ iU
(h.iccd if it had reached if, s Vjl
tna'ion —another account"
tuereturn cargo would have B ?
another port in Europe, where B
tain hud ciders t«. proceed- aB ?*
what the whole would h V- r e
the v-csselhadsaf, l y returned 'ofl t
ed States. Interest is
to the account, up to the ti me
ts forwarded to
and a demand is exhibited ,fB ?
on a capital which as befc.r* i
WM or‘finally §9OOO, 'WUnß
such description are scruuinbßl
commissioners, I app-chend
deductions win take place, and
final report cf the commissi; i: >tß
exhibited, I am of opinion that Bp %
and equitable claims of our -
be fir less than the general
prevailing on the subject.
In order to show what
and equitable claims, wh ch r ß|
rally embraced in the treaty, ■■ =
necessary to advert to the
ral tenor of its stipulations ‘
By the 9th article of the
United Slates have
rights of our citizens to the <
signing said Treaty, and (he ;;B ,
i emumced r.re dearly
lows;
Ist. To all the injuries
the convention of Vlthof Aug
2d To all ttie daims on acßgS
prizes made by French <'b:isn'flß
the territory and jnrsdht-on ol
3J. To all claims of indeir-ni
count of the suspension of th<-■BB
deposit at New Orleans in
4th. To all the claims of the
the United States upon the
ernment, arising from
at sea, and in the ports and
Spain, or in the Spanish
sth To all the claims of the
the United Stales npon t
Spain, statements of which m.'/BS
interposition cf the government
ted States, or to the Minister of
Stales atJlfadrid, since thedclt
vention of 1802, and until tkt
of this treaty,
There is no ambiguity in the
_ leg five articles, nor is there si^B |
that all sudi claims of
therein comprehended,
those only, which the compisiißlr
take cognizanceof.
: Four of tile articles in questlß||
• principally to maritime spoihtflu
seizures of American properly
pretexts in Spanish ports;
i tide has been issued'f >r the
. pose of convincing the claims
our citizens, vho had entersd
tracts and engagements with 'U'B|I
government, and had suffered
lalion of such contracts and
■ on the part qf the Spanish
Indeed, these are a species of
more sacred character than
red in the treaty, because it is H
; to all persons who have had
tions with the Spanish
, redress through Spanish
ry rarely obtained.
f AVhcuever a contract was vloH
i the Spanish authorities, and the
of foreigners got into their
■ almost impracticable to
For although appeals to the
hunals at Madrid, and to the i»i<gß|j||
i of the Spanish monarch, :n sor.xHß
instances, so far succeeded astoMM
a favourable decree in behalf of 'B||
ant climate, yet as the execulio:’.
decrees generally depended
colonial authorities, thev
sally evaded by the bad faith
of the letter, and frequently
new losses to the claimants. MB
The treaties that existed
United States, and Spain, vu-ieBH
ly disregard: :1 by the Colonim a
of liie latter, but even'd* 2 ’■K| 1
editing claims through Spanish
which was especially guarant-CiMS
citizens of the Un.ted States
treaties, was in anvinstar.ee,
American citizens weic thrown
son for daring to claim the
siipulatiuns of those treaties.
Among the eighteenth (last
acter just mentioned, and wluuiM
ed in the Secretary
there are some ot such a pccti'
that when the documen's ars i-nt™
made known to the public,
outrage and injustice will be
within, a parallel in the civiuze
They will prove not merei.v ' ■
sacrifice of property, and a direct*
ion of national treaties, buta tt*
personal outrage on the parto tj*
ish authorities towards ‘ B
which no peculiarly iiidenimncaii*
now compensate. . ■
If the live millions of dollar* ■
priated by the treaty, fall as s;»or ■
been slated in our newspapers o ■
ng the total amount of thec.ai »■
arc none of tlie.ciairn»n‘s on
defic encj will operate more Mr fl
on tliose who hate claims q’ 1
Government, for the violation fl
contracts that had been « ltcr . e ‘‘ B
American citisens»«ith too I ’ fl
oiiial authorities, apd li»d -fl
the Spanish monarch, nitre*-
any ooubl, that claims clW’ W
wid receive the particular #' ,fl
Commiiisioners, ana likewise ,fl
islr Government itsely when t-- 1 - ■
developed. .
By the llth Article ff tm-‘ ■
stipulut.it that the p ymen. of » fl
which may be finally adjus-ew ; 1
missioners, shall be ".' a f d l, rS ) ay fl
sum of fiv; millions of tU ; .fl
States, either immediate.,) a .fl
ry, by the creation cf Stock,