The Madison family visitor. (Madison, Ga.) 1847-1864, May 10, 1856, Image 1

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VOLUME X. (Original Poelnj. For the Visitor. WIIAT NAME SHALL I CALL THEE? To Miss Julia , after hearing her sing “ Call mb Pkt Names, Dearest.’' What mime shall I call thee? what word shall I say ? I could call thee a sunbeam and bless the glad ray, Which brightens my pathway and gladdens my heart, And bids the dark shadow of sorrow depart; But brighter and warmer, more dear thau the ray, Is the light of thy smile in its magical play - And I feel that thy presence forever must be Far more than the light of the sunbeam to me. But ask me not, dearest, to call thee mv star. For its brightness beams down from the heavens afar; And though I might worship, l never could love A gem fur away iu the regions above. Be my bird , for believe me thy voice has the power, To gladden my soul in the gloomiest hour; While I listen with joy to its musical flow— I ask not the reason, I seek not to know. Yet dearer, by far, than the voice is thy smile, Though 1 look and I listen with rapture the while, Thy spirit breathes out of each look and each tone, ’Ti# for this that l love thee, my thirling, my men ! Alpha. Madison, Geo. For the Visitor. LINES On (he death of Edgar, youngent non of Mr. L. P. and Mrs. Saraii B. Cook. BV MISS C. W. BARBER. There is a little narrow grave, Seen on this fair May morn, Iu which as sweet a prattler sleeps, As e’er on earth was born. Plant ye a rose-bush by his feet, An urn close at his head, And let him calmly, sweetly sleep, Amid the unconscious dead. In pastures green, aud broad, and fair, Another lamb now feeds— Safely along the heavenly heights, That lamb the Saviour leads. lie folds him in His gracious arms Close to His loving breast; A little oue so gently nursed Must be extremely bless’d! So we. will wipe away our tears, And still each grief, and care! On earth the earnest task is ours To lire and meet him then . [ Grteniboro', May \*t, 1856. SMILE UPON ME. Hrnile upon me—now the shadow Stretches longer o’er life’s meadow, While the ripple of time's river Falleth faint and fainter ever. Smile upon me. We have lived and loved together, Sharing fair and stormy weather; All our griefs were shared save oue— Thu> , that thou must hear alone. Camt thou smile? Will thy heart grow sad and weary Looking on thy path so dreary ? Would my smile had power tp throw As bright a gilding o’er thy wo As thine o’er mine. Smile upon me—one by one Break tbe links that hold me down, And the grave awakes my fears, Heaven, I cannot see for tears ; Yet smiles upon me. Yes, I know thy heart is breaking, By my own’s sad heavy aching; I dare not think how lone ’twill be “When thou art bere yet wanting me. Canst thou smile? Now the shadows like a pall Gather closer over all ; Yet I pray thy smile may be The last of earth, of love, I see. Smile but once more. / I AM LOVED. .. Jubilate! lam loved! And his lips at length have said it— Long since in bis eyes I read it, But I thought it could not be— Ah ! what happiness for me! t Jubilate! lam loved! Now am I like a little queen, And very pleasant ’tis I ween; Whatsoe’er I do or say Seemeth good and right alway. Jubilate! I am loved— To see him kneeling at my feet, Oh! *tis sweet—’tis very sweet! Every day and every hour Do I glory in my power! Jubilate! lam loved! So dearly loved, that till I prayed, I was more than half afraid; Lord! forgive my sins and make Me pure and good for hid dear sake! Jubilate! I am loved! Lord! forgive my glorying! To thy dear cross I meekly cling! Let the love he beareth me Lead him—lead us both—to Thee! Cl Southern Width) CUrvnnj mu) Bcmvnal, for i\)t f )omt Circle* Ijisloricnt Sion). DEAF SMITH. A TEXAN HERO. About two veal's after tba revolution, a difficulty occurred between the new government and a portion of the people, which threatened the most serious con sequences—even the bloodshed and hor rors of civil war. Briefly the case was this: The constitution had fixed the city of Austin as the permanent capital where the public archives were to ho kept, with a reservation, however, of a power in the President to order their temporary removal in case of danger from the in roads of a foreign enemy, or the force of a sudden insurrection. Conceiving that the exceptional emer gency had arrived, as the Camanohes frequently committed ravages within sight of the capital itself, Houston, who then resided at Washington, on the Brazos, dispatched an order command ing his subordinate functionaries to send the Slate records to the latter place, which he declared to he, pro tempore, the seat of Government. It is impossible to describe the stormy excitement which the promulgation of that fat raised in Austin. The keepers of hotels, hoarding houses,groceries, and faro-hanks, were thunderstruck, madden ed to phrenzy ; for the measure would he a death-blow to their business; and accordingly they determined at once to take the step to advert the danger by opposing the execution of Houston’s mandate. They called a mass meeting of the citizens and farmers of the cir cumjacent country, who were all more or less interested in the question ; and after many fiery speeches against the asscited tyranny of the administration, it was unanimously resolved to prevent the removal of the archives by open and armed resistance. To that end they organized a company of four hundred men, one moiety of whom, relieving the other at regular periods of duty, should keep constant guard around the state house until the peril passed by. The commander of this force was one Col Morton, who had achieved considerable renown in the war of independence, and had still more recently displayed desperate bravery in two desperate duels, iu both of which ho had cut lilk anta gonist nearly to pieces with a bowie knife. Indeed, from the notoriety of his character for revenge, as well as courage, it was thought that President Houston would renounce his purpose touching the archives, as soon as he should learn who was the leader of the opposition. Morton, on his part, whose vanity equalled his personal prowess, encourag ed and justified the prevailing opinion by his boastful threats. He swore that if the President did succeed in removing the records by the march of an over powering force, he would then hunt him down like a wolf, and shoot him down without ceremony, or stab him in his bed, or waylay him in his walks of re creation. He even wrote the hero of San Jacinto to that effect. The latter replied in a note of laconic brevity: “If the people of Austin do not send the archives, I will certainly come and take them; and if Colonel Morton can kill me, he is welcome to my ear-cap.” On the reception of this answer, the guard was doubled around the state house. Chosen sentinels were stationed along the road leading to the capital, the military paraded the streets from morning till night, and a select caucus held permanent session in the city. In short, everything betokened a coining tempest. One day, while matters were in this precarious condition, the caucus at the city hall were surprised by the sudden appearance of a stranger, whose mode of entering was as extraordinary as his dress. He did not knock at the closed door—he did not seek admission there MADISON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, MAY 10, 1856 at all; hut climbed unseen a small hu-.liy topped live oak, which grew beside the wall whence he leaped, without sound or warning, through a lofty window, lie was clothed altogether witn buckskin, carried a long and very heavy rifle in his hand, wore at the button of his sus pender, a large bowie-knife, and in bis leathern belt a pair of pistols, half tlic length of his gun. lie was tall, straight as an arrow, active as a panther in his motion, with dark eotnplexiou, and luxu riant hair, with a severe iron like coun tenance, that seemed never to have known a smile, and eyes of intense, vivid black, wild and rolling, and piercing as the point of a dagger. His strange advent inspired a thrill of involuntary fear, and many present unconsciously grasped the handles of their side arms. “Who are you, that thus presumes to intrude among gentlemen, without invi tation ? ” demanded Colonel Morton, ferociously essaying to cow down the stranger with his eye. The latter returned his stare with compound interest, and laid his long, bony finger on his lip, as a sign—blit of what, the spectators could not imagine. ‘‘ Who are you ? Speak! or 1 cut an answer out of j our heart! ” shouted Morton, almost distracted with rage by the cool, sneering gaze of the otlieri who now removed his finger from his ]ip, and laid it on the hilt of his mon strous knife. The fiery Colonel then drew his dag ger, and was in the act of advancing upon the stranger, when several caught him and held him back remonstrating : “ Let him alone, Morton, for God’s sake. Ho you not perceive that ho is crazy ?” At that moment Judge Webb, a man of shrewd intellect and courteous man uers, stepped forward, and addressed the intruder in a most respectful manner: “My good friend, 1 presume you have made a mistake in the house. This is a private meeting, where none hut mem bers are admitted.” The stranger did not appear to com prehend the words, hut he could not fail to understand the mild and deprecatory manner. His rigid feat ures relaxed, and moving to a table in the centre of the hall, where there were materials and implements for writing, ho seized a pen and traced one line : “lam deaf.” He then held it up before the spectators, as a sort of natural apology for his own want of politeness. Judge Webb took the paper, and wrote a question: “Dear sir, will you he so obliging as to inform us what is your business with the present meeting ’ ” The other responded by delivering a letter inscribed on the hack. “To the citizens of Austin.” They broke the i seal and read it aloud. . It was from i Houston, and showed the usual terse [ brevity of his stylo : “ Fellow Citizens'. —Though in error, and deceived by the arts of traitors, I will give you three days more to decide whether you surrender the public ar chives. At the end of that time you will piease let me know your decision. Sam Houston.” After the reading, the deaf man wait ed a few seconds, as if for a reply ; then turned and was about to leave the hall; when Colonel Morton interposed, and sternly beckoned him hack to the table. The stranger obeyed and Morton wrote: “You were brave enough to insult me by your threatening looks ten minutes ago; arc you brave enough to give sat isfaction ? ” The stranger penned his reply, “ I am at your service ! ” Morton wrote again; “Who will be vour second ? ” “The stranger rejoined: “I am too generous to seek an advantage, and too brave to fear any on the part of others ; therefore I never need the aid of a se cond.” Colonel Morton penned; “ Name your terms.” The stranger traced without a moment’s hesitation: “Time, sunset this evening ; place, the left bank of the Colorado, opposite Austin; weapons, ri iles; and distance one hundred yards. Do not fail to he in time ! ’’ lie then took three steps across the floor, and disappeared through the win dow as he had entered. “Wlmt!” exclaimed Judge Webb, “is it possible, Col. Morton, that you in tend to tight that man ? Ho is a inute> if not a positive mauiac. Such a meet ing, I fear, will sadly tarnish the lustre of your laurels.” “You are mistaken,” replied Morton with a smile; “that mute is a hero whoso fame stands in the records of a dozen battles, aud at least as many bloody duels. Besides lie is the favorite emis sary and bosom friend of Houston. If I have the good fortune to kill him, I think it will tempt the President to re tract his vow. “You kuow the man, then. Who is' he ? ” “ Deaf Smith,” answered Morton, cooly. “Why no; that cannot he. Dial' Smith was slain at Jacinto,” remarked Judge Webb. “There again your Honor is mistak en,” said Morton. “The story of Smith’s death was a mere fiction, got up by Houston, to save his favorite from tl.o vengeance of certain Texans in whose conduct ho had acted as a spy. I fa thomed the artifice twelve months since.” “It what you say, ha true, you are a madman yourself!” exclaimed Webb. “Deaf Smith was never known to miss his mark. lie lias often brought down ravens in their rapid flight, and killed Camnnehes and Mexicans at a distanco of two hundred and fifty yards ! ” “ Say no more,” answered Colonel Morton, in tones of deep determination, “the thing is already settled. 1 have agreed to meet him. There can he no disgrace in falling before such a shot and if 1 succeed, uiy triumph will con fer the greater glory.” Such was the general habit of thought and feeling prevalent throughout Texas at that period. Towards evening a vast crowd assem bled at the place appointed to witness the hostile meeting, and so great was the popular recklessness as to aftairs of the sort, that numerous and considera ble sums were wagered on the result. At length the red orb of the summer touched the turbid rim of the western horizon, covering it all over with crimson and gold, filling the air with a flood of burning glory ; and the two mortal an tagonists, armed with long ponderous rilies, took their station, back to back, and at a preconcerted signal—the wav ing of a handkerchief-—-walked slowly and steadily in opposite directions count ing their steps, until each had measured fifty. They both completed the given number about the same instant, then they wheeled, each to aim and fire when they chose. As the distance was great, both paused for some seconds— long enough for the beholders to flash their eyes from one to the other, and mark the striking difl'ureuco between them. The face of Col. Morton was calm and smiling, hut the smile it bore had a most murderous meaning. On the contrary, the countenance of Deaf Smith was stern and passionate as ever. A side view of his features might have been mistaken for a profile done in cast iron. The one, too, was dressed in the richest cloth, the other in smoke tinted leather. But that made no difference iu Texas then; for the heirs of heroic courage were all considered peers —the class of inferiors etnbiaced none but cowards. Presently two rifles exploded with simultaneous roars. Colonel Morton gave a prodigious hound upwards, and dropped to the earth a corpse. Deaf Smith stood erect, and immediately be gan to reload his rifle; and then having finished his brief task, ho hastened away into the adjacent forest. Three days afterwards, Houston, ac companied by Deaf Smith and ten more men, appeared in Austin, and without further opposition, removed the State papers. The history of the hero of the forego ing anecdote was one of the most extra ordinary ever known iu tho West. He made his advent in Texas at ail early pe riod, and continued to reside there until his death, which happened about two years ago; but although ho had many warm personal friends, no one could over ascertain either (lie land of his birth, or a single gleam of his previous biography. When he was questioned on the subject, he laid his finger on his lip, and if press ed more urgently, his brow writhed, and his dark eye seemed to shoot sparks of livid fire! lie could write with aston ishing correctness aud facility, consider ing his situation ; and although denied the exquisite pleasure and priceless ad vantage of the sense of hearing, nature had given ample compensation, by an eye quick and far seeing as an eagle’s, and a smell keen and incredible as that of a raven, lie could discover objects miles away in the far oft’ prairie, when ollicrs could perceive nothing but earth and sky, and the rangers used to declare that he could catch the scent of a Mexi can or Indian at as great a distanco as a buzzard could distinguish tho odor of a dead carcass. It was these qualities that fitted him so well for a spy, in which capacity ho rendered invaluable service to Houston’s army during tho war of independence, lie always went alone, and generally ob tained tho information desired. His habits in private life were equally singu lar. lie never could bo persuaded to sleep under the roof of a house or oven to uso a tent cloth. Wrapped in his blanket, he loved to lio out in the open air, under the blue canopy of pure ether, and count the stars, or gaze with a yearn ing look at the melancholy moon.— When not employed as a spy or guide, i lie subsisted by hunting, boing often ab | sent on solitary excursions, for weeks and | even months together in the wilderness. lie was a genuine son of nature, a grown j up child of the woods and prairie, which : iie worshipped with a sort of Pagan ! adoration. Excluded by his infirmities from cordial fellowship with his kind, lie made the inanimate things of tho i earth his friends, and entered by bis I heart’s own adoption into brotherhood with the luminaries of heaven ! Wliero ever there was laud or water, barren ! mountains or tangled brakes of wild, waving cane, there was Deaf Smith’s j homo, and there ho was happy; hut in the streets of great cities, in all the great ! thoroughfares of men, wherever there was flattery or fawning, base cunning or ; craven fear, there was Deaf Smith an : alien and an exile. Strange soul! lie hath departed on tho long journejq away among those high bright stars which were his night lamps ; and he hath cither solved or ceased to 1 ponder the deep mystery of tho magic word “ life.” The Difference. An exchange paper, the editor of which no doubt, lately “sot up” with a widow, goes off thus: “ For the other half of a courting match there is noth ing like an interesting widow. There is as much difference between courting a damsel and an attractive widow, as there is betweeu ciphering in addition and double rule of three. Courting a girl is like eating fruit, all very nice as far as it extends, hut doing the amiable to a blue-eyed bereaved one in black crape, comes under the head of preserves— rich, pungent, syrupy. For delicious courting, we repeat, give us a live “wid dor.” A True Mother. —A writer beauti fully remarks that a man’s mother is the representative of his maker. Mis fortune and mere crime sot no barriers between her and her son. Whilst his mother lives, a man has one friend on earth, who will not desert him when lie is need)’. Her affection flows from a pure fountain, and ceases only at the ocean of eternity. iVtiKellamons* “ The Lord livoth.” Generations of men rise, flourish and decay, their labors crumble into dust, — change passes over all material things, even vast worlds liavo disappeared from space, hut tho Lord liveth ! Before tho birth of time, where thought hewildeied can only wonder, ever aud always God lived and shall live. The great truth that we cannot fathom, we take to our hearts with silent reverence which ele vates and inspirits. Wo look upon tho world in which wo live, and tliero is nothing steadfast and reliable. The finger of time is every where busy, and the new becomes speed ily old, and the old resolves itself into its primal elements. Tho sun-bright countenance of youth is hastily dimmed by shadows and liued by care, and its generous, joyous impulses are overlftid by sordid calculation aud grasping ava rice. The homes of our childhood arc re moved or so changed that they seem the strangest of all unfamiliaF things. The friends who were reposing from their la bors in a golden fruition are awakened from their pleasant dreams of security to find their trust betrayed, their well grounded confidence lying with the wrecks of their fortuuo in helpless ruin at their feet. Saddest experience of all it is to see, as wo advance in life, one after another, whom we have loved, and with whom we have held sweet converse, pass be hind tho veil which conceals that other, and, as we believe, higher state of exist ence, prepared for tho soul God hath made immortal. Faith soothes the sor row it cannot erase from the Heart. The vacant seat at tho fireside, the croiiiar-out and the coming-in loneliness, the strug gle to do without the accustomed sup port, the wild longing for the hushed accent of a love-attuned voice, the un filled place within and without, all these make up tho sorrow that cannot be al layed. There is no retreat for the care-bur denod or sorrow laden heart, hut in the truth eternal, unchangeable—the Lord liveth ! If the soul bo not anchor ed upon this assurance, it is the sport and prey of every circumstance ; it must bo whelmed by tho hitter waters of af fliction, and despair must become its portion Reflect for a moment upon tho all embracing fact, the Lord liveth ! Then all that we are, all that we say aud do, are known unto Ilim, more perfectly than even unto ourselves, for sometimes our motives are so mixed and blended that wo can scarcely define them, hut lie knows them, whether pure or vile, and weighs them in his balance. Tho changes of life that are so per plexing, so trying to our patience, are all passing beneath Ilis watchful eye,— not one hidden from his sight, not one valueless in Ilis great plan of govern ment. Our friends, our nearest and dearest, sicken and fail and perish, hut lie liveth still, nor is unheedful of one pang that silently lacerates tho heart. We cannot fathom the mystery of Ilis self existence or of Ilis eternity, because human reason cannot stretch so far ; wc can only believe aud trust, and draw from theso conditions of the soul, tho strength and comfort that wc need. Pause then, yo who dare lightly to call upon that hallowed name 1 Think upon the time when thou wert not; pon der on tho weak, frail, sinful thing thou art, and look forward to the hour that shall send thy dissolved spirit into the awful presence which thou hast dared invoke with unhallowed lips! Remem ber, God livoth and hearoth thee, and change thou thy curse into a prayer for pardon. When the soul droops overburdened with the thought of God, and feels lost in the sense of its own littleness, it turns to that other name by which we are permitted to call upon Him, “ Our NUMBER 19 Father who art in Ileaveu.” That word, Father, teems with the blessed assurance of His pity, mercy and love, and draws us to Him by the tonderest ties. His majesty dawns upon us softened by His love, and we can trust Him with confi dence. Our lives on earth are but a dream, tho reality is all with Him in' Heaven ; and if wo cast ourselves from Him, whero shall wo flee ? 0, doubting, troubled, wayward heart, tempest-tossed' and weary, take to thyself the truth best worth possessing, God liveth, and 1 if this cannot comfort thee, thou art indeed desolate. Cut this Out- A correspondent of tho London Lite rary Gazette, alluding to the numerous cases of deaths from accidental poison ing, adds : I venture to affirm there is scarce’ even a cottage in this country that does not contain an ii. valuable, certain, im mediate remedy for such an event—noth ing more than a dessert spoonful of made mustard, mixed in a tumbler of warm 1 water, and drank immediately. It acts as an emetic, is always ready, and may be used with safety in any- case where one is required. By making this sim-' pie antidote known, you may be the means of saving many a fellow creature-' from an untimely end. “There ho goes again,” said Mrs.- Partington in tho Legislature, as a mem ber stood up for the fifth time to speak on a question. “There he goes like a soda fountain, and just ns fluidly as water. Now, Isaac, mind him, and see if you can’t become a speaker of the house of repreheusibles sometimes. I declare!” continued she as anew burst of elo quence reached her ear, “it does seem as if the mantlopieco of Daniel Webster had fell onto him, he is so bright.”— Boston Post. Poor old Biggs, of Boston, labored under two great natural defects, tho one being an inability to pronounce the let ter V, and tho other a “ pecuniary re tentiveness,” vulgarly known as parsimo ny. “ What a queer pronunciation your uncle has,” observed some ono toa nephew of Biggs. “Ah, yes,” replied the grace less youth—“ It is impossible to get a V out of him ! ” Woman’s Laugh. —A woman has no natural grace rnoro bewitching than a sweet laugh. It is like the sound of flutes on the water. It leaps from her heart in a clear, sparkling rill, and tho heart that hears it feels as if bathed in tho cool exliilerating spring. Have you ever pursued an unseen fugitive through trees, led on by her fairy laugh, now hero, now there, now lost, now found ? We have. And wo are pursuing that wandering voice to the present day. Some times it conies to us in the midst of care, or sorrow, or irksome business; and then we turn away and listen, and hear it ringing through the room like a silver bell, with power to scare away the ill spirits of tho mind. How much we owe to that sweet laugh ! It turns the proso of our life into poetry, it llings showers of sunshine into the darksome wood in which we are travelling, it touches with light even our sleep, which is no more the imago of death, but is consumed with dreams that are shadows of immor tality. SuiiiNG. —Lo, tho whiter is past, tho rain is over and gone ; the flowers ap peal- on tho earth, the lime of the sing ing of birds has come, and tho voice of tho turtle is heard in the land; the fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and tho vine with the tender grape gives a good smell.— Our Author. •Somebody says, “If ladies would cat' meat but once a day, pickles ouce a week, and sweet meats but once a year; it they would take a cold bath every night and morning, and walk five miles a day, they would have no need of cosmetics, ■ or led paint, to make them beautiful.”