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About News & planters' gazette. (Washington, Wilkes County [sic], Ga.) 1840-1844 | View Entire Issue (April 15, 1841)
NEWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE. D. (1. COTTIKW, Editor. No. 33.—NEW SERIES.] HEWS & PLANTERS GAZETTE.! terms: Published weekly at Three Dollars per annum,l if paid at the time of subscribing; or Three! Dollars arid Fifty Cents, if not paid till the expi ration of six months. No paper to be discontinued, unless at the option of the Editor, without the settlement of all arrearages. U3” Letters, on business, must be post paid, to insure attention. No communication shall be published, unless ice are made, acquainted with the ji name of the author. TO ADVERTISERS. Advertisements, not exceeding one square, first insertion, Seventy-five. Cents; and for each sub s sequent insertion, Fifty Cents. A reduction will be made of twenty-five per cent, to those who by the year. Advertisements not limited when handed in, will be inserted till for bid, and charged accordingly. Sales of Land and Negroes by Executors, Ad ministrators, and Guardians, are required by law, to be advertised, in a public Gazette, sixty days previous to the day of sale. \ The sales of Personal Property must lie adver j tised in like manner, forty days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of ail Estate I must be published/orty days. |’ Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary, for leave to sell Land or Ne-I groes, must be published weekly for four month | notice that application will be made for Letters ofj ! Administration, must be published thirty days t and Letters of Dismission, six months. AGENTS. I THE FOLLOWING GENTLEMEN WILL FORWARD THE NAMES OF ANY WHO MAY WISH TO SUBSCRIBE I ! J. T. tj- G. 11. Wooten,\ A. D. Stalham,ilanbura, Mallorysville, B. F. Tatum, Lincoln- I: Felix G. Edwards, Pe- ton, tersburg, Elbert, O. A. Luckelt, Crawford | Gen. Grier, Raytown, ville, 1 Taliaferro, W. Davenport, Lexing | James Bell, Powelton, ton, I Hancock, S. J. Hush, Irwington] Wm. II Nelms, Elber-| Wilkinson, ij ton, j Dr. Cain, Cambridge] f John A. Simmons, Go-i Abbeville District,! ’ slinn, I incoln, I South Carolina. i j 1 Mail Arrangements. f* POST~OFFICE, i Washington, Ga., January, 1841. $ AUGUSTA MAIL. ARRIVES. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 5, A. M. CLOSES. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at I'd, M. MILLEDGEVILLE MAIL. ARRIVES. I Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 8, A. M. CLOSES. I Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, A. M. I CAROLINA MAIL. ARRIVES. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, A. M CLOSES. I Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 8, A. M. I ATHENS MAIL. ARRIVES. Sunday and Wednesday, at 9, A. M. CLOSES. Sunday and Wednesday, at 0, A. M. ELBERTON MAIL. ARRIVES. CLOSES. Thursday, at 8, P. M. | Thursday, at 8, P. M. LINCOLNTQN MAIL. ARRIVES. CLOSES. Friday, at 12, M. | Friday, at 12, M. —a—p——w ~ CUTTING & BUTLER, ATTORNIES, HAVE taken an OFFICE over Cozart & Woods Store. Marc h 11,1841. 28 NOTICE. HE Subscribers having had ilieir Books and -* fl most of their Accounts consumed by the late Fire, would respectfully solicit those indebt-l ed to call, without delay, and settle either will] CASH or by NOTE, the amount due as near] as their memory will serve them—for this matter will be left entirely to the Honor of a great many; and we trust no one will be found taking the ad vantage of our situation ; but that all will come > forward, like honest men, to our relief. v BURTON & PELOT. N. B.—Call at the Bank, on E. M. Burton, for settlement. March 11. ts 28 mlTotice, AS Mr. Joliu G. Crane has made a satisfacto ry explanation and arrangement in refer ence to some Notes given him by myself, (and against the purchase of which I cautioned the p-blic some time since,) I take this method of making it known, that no injury to Mr. Crane may follow that publication. JAMES M. SMYTLIE. April 8, 1841. 32 JYotlce* THE Teachers who had children in their Schools under the Common School Act, and who liave not been paid for their services, will make out their account and present the same I to the Secretary or one of the Commissioners of the Poor School, in exact accordance with the Law regulating the Common School returns, on or before the first Tuesday in May next, at which time a meeting of the Commissioners of the Poor School for Wilkes county wiil take place in [ Washington. As on that day the accounts ren j deredVvill be examined and passed or rejected, <d VHose who fail to have their accounts pre i fAited and made out in conformity to the Aci, Jf be barred thereafter from payment, or any ( part thereof; they would do well to attend to it. ROALAND BEASLEY, Secretary and Treasurer to Board of P. S. I April 8,1841. td 32 LETTERS REMAINING ill the Dost-Officoat Wash ington, Ga., on the Ist day of April, 1841 : B. Banks, II R 2 Bel!, Joseph Billingslea, Francis 3 Bell, James Bcruin, Benjamin F Bales, Anderson Burns, James Boatwright, Janies Booker, WmM Brant let, Mr. Bryant, Boling Burdet, James W C Caloway, Chenoth Copcper, Bushbin Gorneilison, Wm Collins, Mary-Ann Colbert, Martha Carter, John 1’ Cook, James R Olivers, James A. 3 Cox, Marv-Jane Olivers, Joel R. 2 I>. Davis, Martha T Dozier, T F Deveaux, Wm. 2 Dyer, Joel E. Eckles, Janies F. Florence, James Fowler, James G. Gibson, Ophelia Gattrel, Joseph Garrald, Willia II Guise, Isaac N Gresham, Charles 11. Heath, U. S. 5 1 luskey, Wm Heath, James P Ilackney, James J. Joiner, Clara Johnson, Thomas 9 turct, Maria L Johnson’s, S. heirs L. Laughter, Jno C Lawrence, Frederick Duckett, Francis J„ Lincoln, Hermon Lawrence &, i'eteel Lewis, Warner M. McNeil, Ii L N. Norman, Gideon 2 O. Oliver, Furney B I’. Dope, Henry J 2 l’earson, Henry A Doss, Iluriah l’icare, J IB Reims, Cyrus Ross, Job 2 Ross, Etheldridge lloss, Mariah S. Smith, Timothy T Siatham, A B Spratlin, Janies H Smith, James, L I lossy. (Shepherd, Ann E and B Wallace fShtiiian, M J 2 T. Terrell, Stephen Truit. Purnal Terrell, David Thomas, WmS W. I Willis, Easter White, Charlotte Woollen, Jno T 3 Wvim, Samuel II Winn, John Wootlen, Mr. former) Weems, Isabelle A Sheriff ( Williamson, Mary Wilkinson, John YVootten, Elizabeth 96| li t’ Persons wishing Letters from the above List, will please say Advertised. JOSEPH W. ROBINSON, P. M. April 8, 1841. 3t 32 r MISUELLANEOUS. From the Knickerbocker, March, 1841. MARY HART. The following narrative was derived from an officer of General Wellborn’s corps, who was in battle with the Creek Indians,! as below narrated, and an eye witness ol j the remarkable events here recorded.— The whole affords but another proof, that truth is indeed often stranger than lie tion. The Creek war of 1830-7, was a most barbarous one, and continued nearly two years. The Creek population comprehen ded in the treaty for emigration westward, was twenty-two thousand souls, about two thousand of whom, warriors, broke the trea ty, and commenced hostilities in May, IS -36, by an attack on the town of Roanok . in the night, butchering its inhabitants, put ting them to flight, and pillaging and sot ting fire to their habitations. The terrors of an affrighted population, once exposed to Indian barbarities, can hardly be concei ved. Rumor follows quick upon the heels of rumor; yet no story can exceed the hor rors of Indian warfare, as it is impossible for language adequately to depict its reali ties. It is stated of a man in flight with his family from a supposed pursuit of Indi ans in this war, that having got fresh intel ligence of alarm by the less hasty flight of others who had overtaken him, he took up his boy from behind his wagon, tossed him in, and ran forward to whip up his team, when lo ! at the place of stopping, he found that the violence of his action to save his son, had killed him by breaking his neck ! When General Jessup had reported the Creek war at an end, and drawing off his troops into Florida to act against the Scnii noles, contrary to the remonstrances of the inhabitants of Alabama—who assured him that the Indians were not all subdued, hut that some hundreds were still lurking in their hiding places—the war broke out a fresh, with increased barbarity ; and the Governor of Alabama, the Hon. Clement C. Clay, now Senator in Congress, was for ced to act with great vigor in mustering fresh troops for the exigency, by enlisting the citizens of the State into the service of the United States. Gen. William Wellborn received the command, acquitted himself with great valor and honor, to the end of the war. Some time in the winter of 1836-7, Gen. Wellborn heard of an encampment of Indi ans on the banks of Pee River, near its con fluence with Pee Creek, between the forks. WASHINGTON, (WILKES COUNTY, GA.,) APRIL l->, IS 11. With a company of two hundred and ten I mounted men, he set off in search of the foe. Having discovered and reconnoitred their position,from the west bank of the Pee, without being observed, he left one hundred and twenty of his troops on the higher grounds, about half a mile from the river, at a point by which the Indians must retreat, if dislodged, with instructions to cut them ofl’whenever they should be driven in upon [them. With the remainder, ninety men. [he descended the river a few miles, and crossed on a bridge below the confluence of J the two streams, with a view to come round and attack the Indians by surprise. Having made his way across Pee Creek, bo found! the access greatly impeded by low and wet| grounds, it being a time of high water, and several lagoons, or channels running from] one river to the other, and at this time flood ed : cane-breaks and palmetto thickets wen [ to be broken through, and various obstacles peculiar to that wild retreat interposed. — Nevertheless, the bravery and determina tion of the troops surmounted all impedi | moots, and they arrived at last on the bank of a lagoon, on the other side of which was [the Indian encampment, themselves screen led from observation by a grove of palmettos, [and favorable grounds, j At this moment a firing was iieard in the [direction where the one hundred and twen ty troops had been left, and it was manifest las none but women and children were to be Is on on the opposite bank of the lagoon, that jibe Indians had discovered the whites on the [west side of the Pee, and had themselves [become the assailants. This was the more [painful to observe, that ‘.he firing grew rap idly more distant, an indication that the In- Jdians were victorious, and in pursuit. | General Wellborn instantly conceived [the project, as retreat was impossible, of [placing his men in line as near the bank of [the lagoon as he could, for a desperate on [set on the return of the Indians ; and hav ing given his orders, he retired to an emi [nence about a quarter of a mile, and show led himself to the women, who instantly rai [sed the cry of 1 Esta-lladka ! Esta-Hadkaf’ | White man 1 White man !’ pointing to Gen. [Wellborn, on the distant eminence. This [alarm was rapidly conveyed by runners t<> [the Indians now engaged on the other side [of the Pee, and as soon as possible some 300 [warriors or more came rushing back, flush led with victory, and full of vengeance.—. [They seemed to know that they had routed [the largest body of their opponents, and [were eager to find the remainder. It was [a critical moment when they stood upon the [open ground, within gun shot ofGcn. W< 11- [born's men, on the bank of the lagoon, do [manding of the women where they had seer] the white man. The Indians knew that the I lagoon was fordable,but their opponents did I not. At the moment they were about toj rush in, and at a given signal, a well direc-j ted fire was poured in upon them from the j whole line, and they fell back, with a shoutl of terror and discomfiture, into a pine woodj about forty rods distant, leaving many ofl their number dead upon the field. It was evident that the fire told wejl, bull no less certain, that the foe would soon ral | jly, and return with a confidence of victory. They knew there was no escape for the white man, and that they had driven from the field his strongest force. Violent speech es of the chiefs and warriors were heard, and understood. In about forty minutes, a hideous yell of onset rang through the for est, and the entire array of the Indian form leaped upon the bank of the lagoon, to cross and drive their assailants by closer fight.— At. that moment they received a second time the whole fire ofGen. Wellborn’s menl from behind the palmettos, halted, stagger I ed, and again fell back into the woods, lea ving the ground strewed with their slain.— Attain the rallying speeches were heard, & Gen. Wellborn saw .that he and his men must transfer the action to the other bank, [or perish before a superior force. Believ liiig, from the demonstrations of the Indians [that the lagoon was fordable, ho ordered [iwo men, at different points, to make the at tempt, and if succeeded, the whole corps [were to plunge in, form upon the opposite [bank, and rush upon the foe. It was but the work of a moment, and ev ery man was in line. The conflict was des perate and bloody. Women fought and fell with the men. A single white man en countered a warrior and two of his wives, all three of whom were laid dead at his feet by a necessity which he could not avoid, in self-preservation. The Indians fled across a bridge of trees which they had thrown over the Pee, fighting and falling in their retreat; and all that could, w-ere soon out of the battle, leaving camp and spoils, the PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING [wounded, the dying, and the dead. Scv nty-three warriors, averaging six feet and two inches in height, were counted in the slain. An old Chief, Apothlo-Oholo, who after wards escaped in the night, being entirely [ disabled by the shot he had received in va | rious parts of his body, fi ll into the river.| as lie was attempting to cross the bridge o*’[ trees. lie clung to the branches, and buri-j [ed himself entirely under water, while tin ] [victors were crossing and re-crossing, du-| ring and after the action. He lived to re-j Cover of his wounds, joined his party, and] C (forward made the following speech toj Gen. Wellborn, at Conchatto-Mecco’stown,| ” hen about to emigrate with bis people : | “4 on are a Great Chief. 1 have fought [you as long as I could. You have beaten [me. You have killed and taken nearly all [my people. lam now ready to go : the Cirther from you the better. We cannot Cos friends, I thank you for taking care of [my women, children, and wounded warri ors, and for sending them back to me.— [You are a Groat Chief.” | In the sleeve of the coat of Apothlo-Oho jlo, after the battle, were found twenty-eight [hundred dollars, in gold ; and many spoils [that had been taken from murdered white [families, or pillaged from their deserted [houses, were recovered. A roll of bank [notes were also found. Most of the Indian [ponies were left behind, and the whole of [the next day was consumed in making pre parations fora vigorous pursuit of the rou ted Indians. Nine of the ninety engaged [in this attack were killed. The careas , s [of the Indians, we are sorry to learn, were left without burial. The exasperated feel ings of the troops, themselves citizens ol a commonwealth doomed to the horrible atro] cities of an Indian war, with their families exposed, many of whom had already su!- sered, must stand as an apology for no] paying to a fallen enemy the usual respecti of civilized warfare. It was a scene of ear nage, left to the face of the sun, and to tin eyes of the stars. On the morning of the third day, a pu suit of the retreating foe was ordered, the It rail of which led them down the Pee, to ■the plantations of two brothers, Josiuh an [Robert Hart, about forty miles below the [battle ground above described. As tin v [approached these settlements, it needed no [prophet’s ken to anticipate the fate of these [unhappy families. The Indians, still! [counting scarcely less than two hundred [warriors, came upon them the second night, j Josiah Hart had a wife, a son, and two [daughters, the youngest of whom, Mary] [was nine years of age. The family ofj [Robert Hart, living about a mile from libs b other, consisted of himself, two sons, a[ married daughter, and son-in-law. Tin [ log cabin of Robert, as is usual in tha)| country, was built in two separate parts,| with an open space or court between, overj w hich the roof of the building extended.] ihc door of each part being in the middle] of this court, opposite to each other.—] Aware of the dangers to which he was ex | posed, Mr. Hart had ‘chinked’ the logs, br-l (ore open and admitting of being firedj through by the musketry or rifles of an en emy, leaving here and there a port hole, through which the tenants might be able to repulse assailants. He was also provided with nine pieces of fire-arms, rifles, double barrel and other, kept constantly charged, and ready for a sudden emergency. In one of these buildings, the whole family slept by their arms and ammunition, while the watch-dog kept his post without. At the mid-hour of this fatal night, they were suddenly awakened by the earnest barking of the dog, and the simultaneous yells of the Indians. The dog was soon silenced by the rifles of the savages ; and the subsequent stillness without, except when interrupted by the occasional light tread or sudden bound of the wily foe around the house, reconnoitering, in pre paration for the execution of his purpose, was fearful. Having failed in their usual stratagem of driving out the tenants of the house in affright, by the yells of their on set, in an opposite direction, where they would be sure to fall into the hands of a party in ambush, they sought opportunity to make an attack through the crevices of the logs which composed the walls of the building. Not succeeding in this, for Un reason before mentioned, and not venturing yet to enter the court, for fear of a fire from within, which had not yet opened upon them, their next device was, to kindle a fire under the side of the dwelling, by which, if successful, they were sure of their prey. This, however, they could not well do in the dark, without becoming marks for an [unseen hand. Accordingly, the first at [tempt proved fatal to those engaged in it, [and two or three Indians fell before the suiv [aim of the rifle from within the walls.— [Hour after hour, in painful suspense, pass led away, with now and then a shot from [either party, to little or no purpose, except [that a chance ball from an Indian rifle [fiiiind its way between the logs, and wound led Mr. Hart’s daughter in the arm. Not [daring to strike a light, they endeavored, [as well as they could, to bind it up, and to [staunch the blood. At length a lurid light| [cast upon the clouds, discovered to Mr. [Hart that his brothers house was in flames, [and a yell of triumph broke from the horde of savages by whom he and his children were environed, secure, though less suc cessful hitherto, in accomplishing the same object. The flames rose higher, and threw upon this besieged habitation a flood of light, that compelled the besiegers to retire behind the out houses for protection, as they would otherwise be exposed to the fire of Mr. Ilart and his sons. Day dawned at last, and a desultory fire was commenced, as chance invited, and as an Indian head was exposed to view. Sev eral of the Indians fell. Exasperated by these failures, they resolved to set the house on fire at any hazard. They collected combustibles, chose their position, and rush ed with (ire and kindling-wood under the stick chimney of the house, where, as it happened, the rifles from within could no be brought to bear. The smoke was soon felt in the house, and not a moment was to be lost. Despair finds weapons ; and by! the concert of an instant, a bold dev ice \va--[ ■projected, to strike through the frail chim [ In y back on the heads of the Indians, am [ [by a sudden sortie, drive them from tin 9 ■ field, to purchase to themselves an opportu I [nity to escape to the Fort,about seven mile'] [distant. Itwasdone. Three or four Indi-j [ans were killed, and the rest fled. In [some two hours after, Mr. Hail and hi] [children were all safely lodged in the For! j ■having left their house to pillage and fly m Bio which it was doomed in the coui so of the: ■morning, so soon as the Indians had mu- i S red a stronger force, and returned to re-1 ■new the attack. Plunder was all they had [to enjoy. 1 About thirty-six hours after the Indian, j Bind quitted the plantation of the Hurts] [which they had left a scene of ruin and ofj [carnage, and descended the river, litth j [dreaming of being pursued by t ho party [whose power they bad felt two day s before, [General Wellborn and his men came iu [sight of the smoking ruins of Josiah Hart’s [habitation and out houses. Not a living [creature moved before their eyes, and eve |ry aspect was that of desolation. From [a party in the advance, so soon as they ap preached the ruins, a cry of horror and [vcno-eance arose, which broke the awful [silence of the place; and each one as he [came uear, was petrified at the spectacle [which was presented. In a yard, a few |rods from the house, lay the mangled and [naked bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Ilart, their [son and eldest daughter; and a little re [rnoved from them, the body of Mary, also [naked, with her skull apparently broken in by a pine-knot, which lay by’ her side, cov ered with scattered hair and blood. She was lying upon her side, her person stabbed in several places, from head to foot ; and the blood of each wound extending in un broken coagulation to the ground, which had drunk the crimson streams. The sight of Mary was not so fearful as that of the rest of the family, though sufficiently shocking. It was evident, that she had nev er struggled or moved, from the moment she was left in that position, thirty-six hours before. Save her wounds, her ap pearance was that of an innocent, marble repose. The mutilated and mangled condition of the other members of the family was too horrible to be recorded. Mr. Hart had been pierced with many balls ; Mrs. Hart with less; each had been shot ; and all were covered and disfigured with ghastly wounds. The spectacle filled the men with absolute madness. They raved, stamped, ran to and fro, struck the trees and stones with their clenched hands, until the blood fol lowed from their blows, without seeming to feel the wounds they inflicted on them selves; and they cried, ‘Vengeance 1 Ven geance ! Vengeance !’ till all the region rang with it, and loud enough to awake the sleeping dead. And it did awake the dead ! Surrounded at this moment by a throng of these exas perated beholders, who were looking upon her innocent countenance, and raising these fearful cries, but not having yet pre- n. .i. si %ir i: i,, mmrr. sumed to touch this relic of mortality, little Mary Hart opened her eyes, turned up her face, and said, audibly and distinctly, ‘ How they did beat us!’ and then closed her eyes, and turned hack, elapsed again in the same silent and death-like repose 1 The moment was awful, and the feeling of the spectators entirely changed. The in nocent victim was carefully approached, tenderly lifted up, her wounds bathed, and the proper surgical applications attached. On examination, it was found that life was not extinct; but she was so literally drain ed of her blood, that no symptom of reviv mg animation could he awakened. Wrap, ped in a blanket, she was carried on hors - back in the arms of General Wellborn to the Fort, with little more sign of life than when first taken from the ground, and was committed he the charge of her uncle and his family, whose escape has already been narrated. The troops started oft’ in hot pursuit ol the flying foe, and after two day’s march overtook them in Florida. Thirty-nine of them were slain in the engagement that on sued ; many prisoners were taken, with the booty from the pillaged houses of the Harts ; and the rest took (light to the town of Colichatto-Mecco, where they surren dered for emigration, and the Creek war was ended. Mary Ilart, by ineansof tender nursing, and the restoring powers of nature, gradu ally recovered. The indenture in the skull proved not to boa fracture, and she is now supposed to be as well if the massacre bad ■never happened. She is at this time twelve Bor thirteen years of age, and sole heiress to g:i great estate. 1 BATTLE OF TRENTON. h From the mum:script of an cyc-icitness. 9 I had scarcely put my (not in the stirrup B’ . lore an aid-de-camp from the commander- B it: chief gallop; and up to me with a summons Ito the side of Washington. 1 bowed in re [ plv, and dashed up the road. The genera 1- [ lu-chief was already on horse back, sur round and by bis staff, and on the point of | setting out. He was calm and collected, ■ is if in his cabinet. No sooner did lie sec | mo than he waved his hand as a signal to I halt. I checked my steed on the instant, [and lifting my hat, waited for his com- K mauds. ■ <• You arc a native of this country ?” H “ Yes !—your excellency.” “ You know the roads from M’Conkey’s ferry to Trenton—by the river and Penning ton—the bye-roads and all ?” “As well as I know my alphabet,” and f patted the neck of my impatient charger. “ Then I may have occasion for you— you will remain with the staff—ah! that is a spirited animal you ride, Lieutenant Ar cher,” he added smiling, as the fiery beast made a demivolt, that set half the group in commotion. “ Your excellency—” “ Never mind,” said Washington, smil ing again, as another impatient spring of my charger, cut short the sentence, “I see the heads of the columns are in motion— you will remember,” and waving his hand, he gave the rein to his steed, while 1 fell back bewildered into the staff The ferry was close at hand, but the in tense. cold made the march any thing but pleasant. We all, however, hoped on the morrow to redeem our country by striking a signal blow, and every heart beat high with the anticipation of victory. Column after column of our little army defiled at the ferry, and the night had scarcely set in before the embarkation began. At last we crossed the Delaware. The whole night had been consumed in trans portation of the men and artillery, and the morning was within an hour or two of daw ning before the last detachment bad been embarked. As I wheeled my horse, on the little bank above the landing place, I paused an instant to look back through the obscurity on the scene. The night was dark, wild, and threatening, the clouds betokened an approaching tempest —and 1 could with difficulty penetrate with my eye, the fast increasing gloom. As I put my hands across my brow to penetrate into the darkness, a gust of wind, sweeping down the river, whirled the snow in my face, and momentarily blinded my sight. At last I discerned the opposite shore amid the obscurity—The landscape was wild and gloomy. A few desolate looking houses only were in sight, and they scarce ly perceptible in the shadowy twilight. The bare trees lifted their hoary arms on high, groaning and creaking in the gale. The river was covered with drifting ioe, that now jammed with a crash together, [VOLUME XXVI.
