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iV E\Y H & PLMTEBS’ GAZETTE.
D. (; • COTTIN6, Editor.
No. 47.—NEW SERIES.]
NEWS & PLANTERS GAZETTE.
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Mail Jirrangcments.
rOST OFFICE, >
Washington, Get., January, 1842. )
AUGUSTA MAIL.
ARRIVES.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 5, A. M.
CLOSES.
Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at 2J, P. M.
* MILLEDGKVILLE MAIL.
ARRIVES.
Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 8, A. YL
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CAROLINA MAIL
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Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, A. M.
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ATHENS MAIL.
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ELBERTON MAIL.
ARRIVES. CLOSES.
Thursday, at 8, P. M. ! Thursday, at 8, P. M.
LINCOLN i'ON MAIL.
ARRIVES. CLOSES.
Friday, at 12, M. j Friday, at 12, M.
COTTING & BUTLER,
ATTORNIES,
HAVE taken an OFFICE over G. P. Co
zart’s Store.
January, 1842. 29
Doctor F. Ficklen,
HAS taken an Office in the new brick build
ing on the South-west corner of the Pub
lic Square, owned by Bolton & Nolan, where be |
may be found during the day-time, and at night
at his residence.
July 7, 1842. 8t 45
•ft'otice.
FI HERE will he an Election held at the
JL Court-House in Washington, and the sev
eral. precincts of Wilkes county, for two Justices
of ;hc Inferior Court of said county, to fill the va
cant-, .os caused by the removal of Daniel Lee,
Esq. and the resignation of John T. Wootten,
Esq., on the first Tuesday in August next.
11. L. EMBRY, l
LEWIS S. BROWN, J. I. C.
WM. Q. ANDERSON, )
July 7,1842. 45
“morTcheap goodsT
JUST received direct from New-York, a fresh
supply of new, cheap and desirable
Fancy and Staple. Dry Goods, Hats, Ready
made Clothing, BfC. ij-c.
The following comprise a portion of the Stock,
viz.:
Book, Mull, Swiss and Jackonet MUSLINS,
Cotton CAMBRICS,
Thread and Bobinet LACES,
Bonnet and Cap RIBBONS,
Domestic and Earleston GINGHAM,
_ Bro. Drills, Sheetings and Shirtings,
BOMBAZINE APRONS—a new article,
Palm Leaf HOODS, at 37£ cents,
Palm Leaf IIATS, at 12J cents,
40 doz. prs. White, Colored and Fancy HOSE
and half HOSE, from 12J- cts. to 50 cts.
A beautiful lot of 2d Mourning Calicoes and
Muslins,
French, English and American PRINTS, from
64 cts. per yard to 25 cts.
Bl’k. and White Cotton GLOVES, at 12| cts. pr.
ALSO,
Gent’s. White and Colored SHIRTS,
Linen COLLARS and BOSOMS,
White Linen COATS,
Cloth and Glazed CAPS,
Summer CASSIMER’S and CLOTHS, etc.
&.C. &c.
O’ Call at BELCHER’S Cheap Cash Store,
in Thompson’s Range.
Washington, July 14, 1842. 2t 40
ADMINISTRATOR’S SALE.
A GREEABLE to an order of the Honorable
the Inferior Court of the county of Wilkes,
sitting as a Court of Ordinary, w-i]l be sold on the
first Tuesday in September next, within the le
gal hours of sale, before the Court-Ilouse door
of the county of Cass, a Forty Acre I Ait of Land
known as Lot No. 148, 6th District, and Third
Section .of said county, belonging tc the Estate
of Samuel M. Smythe, deceased.
JAMES M. SMYTHE, Adm’r.
June 30,1842. _ 44
A COMIC SONG.
WILL NOBODY MARRY ME?
ny GEORGE P. MORRIS.
Ileigh-ho ! for a husband ! —heigh-ho !
There’s danger in longer delay !
Shall I never again hav’e a beau 1
Will nobody marry me, pray !
1 begin to feel strange, I declare !
With beauty nay prospects will fade !
I’d give myself up to despair
If I thought I should die an old maid !
I once cut the beaux in a huff’!—
I thought it a sin and a shame
That 110 one had spirit enough
To ask me to alter my name!
So I turned up my nose at the short,
And rolled lip my eyes at the tall;
But then fjust did it in sport,
And now I’ve no lover at all!
These men are the plague of my life !
’Tis hard from so many to choose J
Should one of them wish for a wife,
Could I have thejieart to refuse ‘!
I don’t know— for none have proposed !
Oh, dear me ! —l’m frightened, I vow !
Good gracious !—whoever supposed
That, I should be single till now
j&tarcUaufons.
Froty the Ladies’ Companion for July.
THE GRENADIERS GHOST.
A TALE OF THE OLD STAIR HEAD CLOCK.
By the author of “Laftte,” “Kydand the
Quadroon .”
“Art. thou ghost ot goblin damned!
Thou coinest in such a questionable shape
I fain must speak to thee.”— Hamlet.
“There are unnumeruble histories in ma
ny several countries and ages of the world,
of extraordinary apparitions, and other un
accountable performances, that could only
have been done bv invisible powers. Ma
ny of these are so well attested, that it ar
gues a strange pitch ofobstinacy to refuse
to believe a matter of fact when it is well
vouched and when there is nothing in rea-
SOU to oppose it but an unwillingness to bo
lieve in the existence of invisible beings. —
It is true this is an arrangement in which a
fabulous humor will go far, and in which
some are so credulous as to swallow down
every tiling ; therefore all wise men ought
to suspend their belief and not to go too fast;
but when things arc so undeniably attested,
that there is no reason to question the ex
actness of the credit of the witness, it ar
gues a mind unreasonably prepossessed to
reject all such evidence. We preecive
that we ourselves and the rest of mankind
have thinking principles within us ; so from
thence it is easy enough to us to apprehend
that there may he other thinking beings,
which either have no bodies at all. hut act
purely as intellectual substances ; or, if
they have bodies, that they are so subtil-
Led as to be capable of a vast quickness of
motion, such in proportion as we preceivo
to be in our animal spirits, which, in the
minute that our minds command them are
raising motions in the remotest parts of em
bodies. Such bodies may also be so thin
as to be invisible to us : ihore is nothing in
this theory that is incredible, and Scripture
hath given it much opening to our belief.”
Thus discourseth the learned and philo
sophical Burnet; and having at our right
hand such uu authority, we shall boldly
proceed to our narration.
Buccleuch, the sceneofthe foflovving sto
ry, is an ancient manor-house situated on
the banks of the Raritan, a little less than
one mile from New Brunswick, in New
Jersey. It was erected above a century
ago by the father of a Revolutionary colo
nel from whom it descended, passing
through various hands into the possession of
its present hospitable proprietor, Colonel
S , a descendant ot the chivalrous
Scotts of Buccleuch, in memory of whose
paternal home it receives its name. Long
before the war of independence the mansion
was celebrated for the number of itsdistin
guished visiters and for the noble entertain
ment of its proprietor. It was it one period
the abode of the lord governor, and its halls
rung with weekly festivities and gaities.
Many was the stately ball given there, in
which the gentlemen appeared in the rich
scarlet velvet coats emboidered with gold
lace, in ruffles, powder and gold buckles ;
and the ladies in farthingale and ample
train, with their hair dressed as in the por
traits of Queen Elizabeth.* During the Re
volutionary war it was made successively
die head quarters of Lord Sterling and the
British General Grant, ihe latter of whom
took possession of it on the hasty flight of
the family of the proprietor. The house
‘•till retains numerous traces of this occu-
*The winter before last one of these scenes
was pleasingly revive!’. The accomplished
daughter of the present “ioid of the manor,”
gave a fancy ball at which were present many
persons of the vicinity who wore the rich and
perfect identical dress worn by their ancestors at
the old gubernatorial parties a century, ago.—
This was an iteresting sight. It was the olden
days with the olden people represented in their
sons and daughters ! This .speaks well for that
old family aristocracy of which the Jersey folks
are so proud.
I’ ÜBL IS II E D EVE R Y TIIUR SD A Y MORN IN < ;
WASHINGTON, (WILKES COUNTV, GA„) .11 I V 21, 1842.
I paticy. The broad oaken stair wav, which
is wide and shallow enough to be achieved
on horseback, is hacked by swords and hal
berds ; the bannisters are disfigured with
initials and marks of pistol muzzles that
have been driven against them ; while the
stairs themselves arc thickly covered with
the circular rings of the mouths of mus
kets that have been struck upon them in
the process of cleaning. In fact the whole
grand stairway, for Colone] S. suffers nei
ther (mint nor plane to efface these Revolu-
I tionary marks, looks more like that apper
• taining to soldiers’ barracks than to the pri
i vate mansion of a gentleman. But Gener
i al Grant having possession of the lower
j rooms for the use of himself and staff', had
; quartered a grenadier guard in the upper
j chambers to which this spacious stair-wav
i was the common thoroughfare; besides,our
■ English visiters of the day were not over
j nice in the care they took of houses and
j churches that they chanced to appropriate
i for winter quarters ; and in consideration
of the long period it was occupied by Gen
i eral Grant, Buccleuch fared better than
many oilier mansions belonging to the Re
i volutionary officers.
It was in the winter of 18—, that cir
cumstances of a plainfully interesting char- ■
actor made me a temporary sojourner at
Buccleuch manor. It was a sunnv Sep
tember afternoon that I first approached the
mansion from Brunswick, by a road that
wound past an old redoubt constructed on
a barren heath that lies between it and the
town. From this elevated hill the view is
on every side interesting. Buccleuch lay
before me in a little vale of its own by the
side of tho meandering Raritan, its balco
nied roof rising proudly above the grove of
elm, acacia and horse-chesnuts that shaded
the lawn on which it stood ; further beyond
was a thick wood that bounded the estate ;
and still further, sleeping in the sunlight of
a summer’s evening, was a mill, a hamlet
of.white and red houses and an old wooden
bridge, all affording a most picturesque va
riety to the view from where I stood IE.
yond the mill stretched the silver river be
tween verdant and sleeping shores, till a
graceful bend hid it from the eye amid over
hanging woods. Beyond the woods, for
miles, stretched a fine countt-}’ of farm and
forest, terminated jn the skyey outline by a
range of blue hills. Such was tho fair scene
ry of Buccleuch as seen from the old fort!
On my right was the river with its broad
canal locked to its side, adorned with plea
sant farms on its opposite bank : behind me
was the fair city of Brunswick with its sym
motrioal episcopal opirc and hruvv tow
ers, its elegant railroad bridge, the most
beautiful structureof the kind in America,
—and farther below it tho “ old bridge,” ‘
black and tottering with age ; while the ri- j
ver, ever a bright feature in the scene, gli- \
ded on shortly to lose itself in the hills’ that
enclosed the view on the east. It was on
nil adjacent eminence of the same summit
on which I stood, and which commanded a
wider view of the vale of the Raritan, and
a more extensive range of farm land and
forest that Washington onco drew rein and
after surveying it awhile, exclaimed with
feeling:
“Tliis is the loveliest scene on earth! If
rest and repose ever be my lot I should,
next to Mount Vernon, choose this peaceful
spot in which to pass my life.”
Me was at the head of a detachment of
his army when ho said this, and the moment
afterwards he rode on leading the tide of
war over the valley of peace ! Alas, how
seldom are man’s ways those his heart
would choose !
After enjoying a few moments the scene
which had made a warrior sigh for repose
amid the career of arms. I gallopped down
the hill and entering a gate at tips left, rode
by a winding avenue to tiie mansion which
for many subsequent months became my
borne, —a home endeared to me by recol
lections of mingled sadness and pleasure!
Blessings on thy silvery head “good master
of Buccleuch 1” Sweet and gentle remem
brance to thee, fair “lady of the manor !”
Love and fellowship to all the kind hearts
at dearofd Buccleuch Hall!
I have already alluded to the barbarous
vestiges of the occupation of the mansion by
the British troops. With a reverence for
Revolutionary traces that command our re
spect, and with a just indignation against
the island foe that evinces his hearty pat
riotism, the venerable Colonel has stoutly
opposed all advances towards removing
them or modernizing the stair-case, from
time to time made by his children. Every
sword hack on the black oaken banister,
every indent of a musket muzzle on tho
broad stairs, every gouge in the wainscoat
made by a bayonet, is sacred in his eyes.
He stood out for a long time most manfully
against any innovation in the two front
rooms which were pannelled from the floor
to the ceiling, with tall harrow mantel pie
ces adorned with Dutch tiles and small low
windows, with innumerable panes of glass
set in wonderfully thick and stout outer
sashes. But he at last yielded ; and the
two rooms are now modernized, affording a
striking contrast to the wide hall between,
which still retains its antique air, its pro
jecting beams and carved cornices. The
chambers are also pannelled and precisely
unchanged as in olden time, furnished, as
before the Revolution, with rich old high
backed mahogany chairs and fitted with a
score of little nooks and cupboards. His
daughter plead hard for innovation here, but
the Colonel was resolute. He had admit
ted modern New York chairs into his par
lor with centre tables and pier glasses !
there ho resolved to stop ! And these inno
| vations were conceded only upon the condi
tion of being suffered to retain by tho fire
| place his old arm chair—in which Gcner
j al Washington, Kosciusco and John Man
| cock had sat! Dear to his heart was that
j old arm chair! Well did it merit a nook
i 111 modernized room ! Its presence con
| Ikrred honor and dignity on ail about it!—
Long, dear Colonel, may thy venerable
i arm chair, hold its honored spot beside the
j fire place ! Long niayest thou live to take
| thy afternoon nap within its cushioned cm
! brace !
| L ith every apartment in the mansion
j there is connected some historical or tradi- j
j tionary reminiscence. In the room at the !
| foot of the Stairs, with the antique carved i
j “'purei piece, General Grant was dining
with Jiis staff when the intelligence was ;
brought him that Washington was marcli
ing upon Princeton and menaced Bruns
wick. In the room above it an English co
lonel was killed in a duel that took place
with small swords over wine cups in the ‘
sanioVooin. The east chamber in front j
had been once occupied by Washington,
and that in the rear was Gen. Grant’s slee
ping apartment. In one of tho front par
lors, (the west one 1 believe,) had been held
a council of war, at which Lord Cornwal
lis and Ear! Grey were present; and in the
cast one an English cavalry officer, a
young nobleman, was privately married to !
a lovely American girl, whom smitten with •
her charms he had abducted and bro’t here
and who subsequently became a much ad
mired marchioness both at Altnack’s and j
St. James’. The room in the rear of this
is the Colonel s library, a miscellaneous j
assemblage of books as quaint and old as j
the mansion itself. This also has its story. I
It is called “The Grenadier’s room!”
“The Grenadier’s room?” I repeated, I
looking round it ns 1 entered to see if I j
could discover any thing that might give
it such a name.
“The Grenadier’s room,” answered tho
Colonel gravely. “There is a story con
nected with it I will tell you some time
when the ladies are at leisure to hear it.”
“What kind, of a story, dear Colonel?”:
inquired a lovely married woman who form- i
ed one the party of six, which our vener-I
able and gallant host was conducting thro’ j
the rooms of the mansion.
“ A ghost story, dear madam,” lie said j
smilling but speaking in a serious tone.
“A ghost story !” was the general excla- :
mation; and one or two of the party shrunk
instinctively buck from the.door of the 1i
brary ; for it was twilight and objects with
in looked shadowy and mysteriously unde
fined to the eye.
“Is it is a rea/ghost story, Colonel ?” in
quired the fair married lady, Mrs. Mary
Odlin, in a hesitating doubtful voice.
“It is, I assure you, my dear madam. It
is as well authenticated as tho most incred
ulous need desire.”
“Is it a Grenadier’s ghost?” asked a pret
ty black-eyed girl, whose cherry cheek was
something blanched while she spoke : “and
has any body seen it ?”
“I have seen it,” answered the Colonel,
solemnly.
“Oh, mercy ! Lot us go from this horrid
room!” cried the maiden, shrinking, yet
fearing to start. “This old house is haun
ted, and I always knew it was ! I will not j
sleep here to-night, Colonel !”
“He has not appeared for three years,
Julia,” said the old gentleman, smiling ; |
“do not be alarmed !”
■ I knew you were only joking,” said the
•alarmed girl, laughing; “but really I have
a great terror of ghosts, yet 1 don’t believe
in them.”
“Then you should have been with me
three years ago, the twentieth of October
night,” impressively said the Colonel, in a
tone that startled all present with its solemn
awe.
“What did you see then, dear Colonel?”
inquired the pretty Miss Mary Odlin, with
all the firmness she could command, anx
ious to be acquitted of any suspicion of fear.
“I saw an apparition visible and, present
where we now stand ! It was habited like i
a British Grenadier, and his face wore an
expression of painful anguish and sadness,
such as I had never—bless me, you have
ali flown!”
The Colonel was indeed deserted by the
’ladies ere he had completed the sentence.
We followed them to the portico, I laughing
at their terror, though not unimpressed my
self by the seriousness in the tones of his
voice. They were, I thought too natural
to be assumed, yet that the remembrance of
any supernatural appearance bad uncon
sciously thus modulated them, I could not
believe. A stroll on the lawn in the peace
ful twilight, calmed the fears of the ladies,
which the seriousness of the Colonel had
irresistably excited, and when tea was an
nounced, all returned to the house cheer
fully, and readily laughing at their ghost, I
the bright eyed Julia being the most merry
at her own fears.
Several weeks passed without farther al- !
lusion to the library and its ghostly grena- j
dier, when it chanced that the same party!
that were at Buccleuch when the subject I
had before been mentioned, were once more j
there on a visit of a few days. One eve
ning a severe storm, accompanied by terific
thunder andlightning, drew all the inmates
together after tea was over, in the west
room, for companionship and sympathy.—
A thunder tempest, at that season of the
year, in that climate, was unusual, and
there was therefore more apprehensions
manifested than on other occasions ; never
theless, conversation was lively and
and'laughter free arid hilarious! ft work,
■til”'?'’ i on his wt
j observed at such times, that people are ei
ther very grave or very gay ; the former
I proceeding from a serious contemplation of
j death, with which they feel every arrow of
lightning is feathered and barbed, the 1 at
ter from a certain nervous fear, which must
I some way vent itself, and as readily in
I laughing as in crying. There is a third
| class, too, that appear perfectly indifferent
I as if hardened into insensibility, when each
J moment death may come winged to their
I hearts ! Such persons may have hearts !
It singularly becomes all men to be solemn
i “ hen tho near lightning is flashing about
I their heads, and tho voice of the thunder
; shakes the ground beneath their feet. A
j light laugh—a jesting remark—is then, I
i feel impiety 1
j Suddenly our conversation, which iiad
t been gaily resumed on a temporary lull of
I the storm, was silenced by an appalling
i crash of thunder that followed the blinding
! lightning so instantly, that the ear and eye
were shocked at the same moment. Every
| hca'l “'as bowed instinctively, as if to re
ceive the invisible stroke, and only lifted
when the thunder ceased to redouble its eeh- j
oes along the horizon. For several mo- I
| merits aiteiwards there was a deep silence, j
j which at length, the Colonel interrupted by I
| saying.
j “That is the lust holt! It has broken!
| the storm ! This will ho a good opportu- i
j nify to relate my story of the Grenadier’s
| Ghost.”
| There is, in the human mind, a propensi- ,
j tv to a higher degree, ofthaYMate in which I
|it may be at the moment. A state of pro- I
! sent happiness inclines it to joyousness, to
j laughter, to mischiefand to merriment. A j
I state of sadness inclines it more easilv to j
j sorrow, to tears, and finally to despairing j
j grief. This quality of the mind has been |
| particularly observed to exist in whatever I
| relates to the subject of supernatural up- 1
I pearances. If around a winter’s fire, acci- I
dent has drawn attention to the subject of
apparitions, there is at once experienced in 1
every mind present, an irresistible propen- j
sity, in the ‘very face of bis own fears, to I
i dwell arid enlarge upon the theme, ’till the i
j indulgence of this morbid and diseased cu- !
I riosity leads to the most fearful consequen- I
| cos. 4 I
I There was a feeling something like this
j that actuated every bosom tho instant the j
I Colonel mentioned the subject of the ghost
! of the library ! Al! sensation bad been ap
: palled by tiic fearful thunder clap, and
deep awe yet filled each mind : yet it was
at this state, of feeling that the Colonel pro
posed a subject that would only increase
their sensations of fear and add to their
mental discomfort. Nevertheless, such is j
the propensity of the mind, to which we I
have alludpd, that no sooner was it sug- j
gested, than each one present, though j
shrinking at the idea, felt an irresistible i
impulse to desire him to relate the story, j
It was therefore with no little surprise and |
gratification that lit in ard from half dozen !
voices,
“Oh, ves, yes Tin ghost story ! Do, i
Colonel !”
“Do, dear Colonel!” entreated Julia, I
half trembling.
“ 1 should like it of all things !” cried !
Mrs. Odin.
“ Tell it ! do tell it !” was the universal I
response.
The Colonel paused a few moments, as i
if to recall the past, his anxious audience i
the while instinctively drawing nearer to I
each other. The wind howled about the !
corners of the old mansion, at times wail
ing dolefully, as if the ghost himself were
without, plaintively asking shelter from the
inmates. After a few moments’ death-like
silence, in which the heart’s beating might
have been distinctly beard, the silvery
headed veteran began. His eye, during
the narration, was fixed alternately either
upon the lovely Mrs. Mary Odlin, or upon
the fair Julia ; for the Colonel was a gal
lant cavalier of the old school, studiously
and attentively polite to the young and
beautiful, from whom he was the envied
recipient of many a bright kiss, which he j
punctually exacted from all tho young and |
fair that visited Buccleuch Hall ! and ma- I
ny and fair were the youthful females that j
gathered, from time to time, beneath its lies- I
pitable roof, and he was “dear grandpa” I
to one and all ! Surely cheerful old age |
hath its pleasures and its privileges
“ It was on some such night as this, three
years ago,” cdhimenced the Colonel, in a
low, grave tone, that at once commanded j
their attention, and awed their minds, “that
1 was engaged to a late hour in my library
on a capital case which I was to argue the
next day, (lor the Colonel was, at this time,
the eldest sergeant at law at the bar.) I
had just completed my minutes of refer
ence, and laid down my pen, when I heard
the tall old mahogany clock which you
have all seen standing on the first landing
of the hall stairs, begin to strike.
“ Bless me, is it twelve o’clock 1” 1 ex
claimed, taking out my watch and looking
at it, after I had heard the twelfth stroke of
the hammer; “I will take a glass of this
fine old port beside me and go to bed!”
“ I took up the bottle of wine which Har
ry had brought in with two glasses on a
waiter, and placed beside me, as his usual
custom was, and began to pour out the rich
blood of the grape, when my hand was ar
rested by a heavy step descending the hall
stairs. I listened with the bottle suspended
above the half-filled glass. Step slowly
followed step, heavy and firm, and I was
confident some person was coming down
Iho scaihjhambers into the hall. But who
picking the sheriff’spocfcvny daughter and
ay to the penitentiary )
ill. .V. KAPPEL, Printer.
\ Mary were away, and, save my servant,
Harry, who slept in a room adjoining the
kitchen, 1 was the only soul in the whole
house. There was something in the heavy,
deadweight with which each foot fell upon
the stairs, that made upon me a singular
impression. The house was still as death,
so that I could hear distinctly tho full sound
ot the footfalls as they successively re
sounded through the echoing hall. At
length the heavy tread fell upon the hall
(loor, and 1 felt the house tremble beneath
it, and and stinctly saw the wine tremulate in
the glass ! I assure you, fair ladies, I nev
er had, until that night, faith in supernat
ural visitations. That this was any thing
superhuman, 1 had not the first idea. I
was thinking all the time who could have
got into the house, and marvelling if he was
a thief that he should send before him such
note of his approach. But indeed I hardly
knew what to think. The step still rung
upon the hall floor, and was, I perceived,
evidently approaching the door of the libra
ry ! With this, I set down the bottle, and
rising quickly from my chair, took down
grandfather’s sword with the basket hilt',
which lie used at Cullodcn, and which I
have showed to von hanging in the library
with my other old family armor. It hung
i then where it does now, directly above the
■ uniform I wore in the last war. 1 had no
i sooner got the good blade in my grasp, than
I felt that confidence and serenity tho hold
of a stout weapon always affords an old scl
. dier. The slop approached the door, slow,
| measured and heavy, like a military tread,
and J was convinced that whoever the in
truder was who tints disturbed tho mid
night repose of the house, he had, at least,
been trained in the camp, and 1 thought I
detected the ringing of arms as he moved.
But 1 was astonished at the dead weight of
Ins footfall more than any thing else. I
bad never conceived any thing like it.—
Every joint in the old mansion groaned,
and every beam sprung'beneath it. Mv
mind misgave me, and 1 began to prepare
myself to encounter something that might
give me trouble ! Rut I had no time to in
dulge or increase, by dwelling on them, my
rising apprehensions, for the walker was at
the door of the library. I grasped my
grandfather’s basket hilt more firmly, and
awaited tiie result. For several seconds
there was a perfect silence without in the
hall, broken only by tho sighing o.f the
hoarse winds in the trees. My heart was
in my mouth ! I began to feel uneasy at
this suspense, which momently became less
endurable, and I was impulsively about to
throw open the door and terminate it, when
a hand upon the lock made me experience
a sensation throughout my body I recollect
never to have known before. It might have
been fear, but what followed has led me to
refer it to an instinctive intimation in the
mortal flesh of the presence of a disembodi
ed soul ! I started back at tho sound, and
cried, ‘ Who is there ?’
“ The door slowly turned upon its hin
ges, while I threw myself into an attitude
of defence, with my sword presented in tho
direction of tho entrance. My heart ceas
ed to beat, yet my nerve was good and my
band as steady as in my best days in the
war. With mingled curiosity and misgiv
ing, I fixed my eye on the door, and as it o
pened, I beheld standing in it a tall figure
in the dress of a Captain of British Grena
diers, and carrying in his hand a small
camp lantern, in which a miserable flame
flickered, in the act of expiring. It cast
upwards upon his face a ghastly reddish
glare, giving to features already horrible
from their expression of pain and anguish,
a most fearful aspect to human eyes. His
head was bare and grey, with mildew upon
the long hanging locks, and his helmet
hung by its chinband or. bis shoulders. It
was rusted and moulded, his uniform was
also old and mothv, and Ills sword was rust
ed in its scabbard. He stood erect, and
witli a military air, and after casting a mel
ancholy glance around the apartment, he
fixed his hollow gaze upon me. I was pet
rified with fear and astonishment, for I saw
in his face that the skin was shrunk upon
the bones as no living man’s could bo, and
that the hand which held the lamp was that
of a skeleton. For several seconds I stood
gazing upon the spectre, and the spectre
upon me ; for it was plain from the looks
of surprise, that it did not expect to find me
there. At length I addressed him with
what resolution I could command, in these
words:
“ Being of another world, what would’st
thou here ?”
It made me no reply, but pointing silent
ly and with a solemn gesture to his dicker
ing lamp, commandingly waved me aside,
as if I had stood between him and some ob
ject he sought beyond me. I irresistibly
obeyed, when with the same heavy step I
had heard in the hall, the tall figure moved
past me across the library in the direction
of a little shelf where I kept little miscel
laneous articles, such as hammer, nails,
cork-screw, the oil can, and the like, and
while 1 wondered and watched it, I saw
him stretch forth bis skeleton hand, and
with a ghastly smile of gratification, take
the oil can from the shelf and deliberately
fill his rusty little lamp. He then replat
ed it upon the shelf, and sighed, as if reliev
ed from some great evil he had apprehend
ed. Tito lamp so lately expiring, now
burned brightly, and the spectre turning
upon me a look of gratitude, pointed tow
ards the table with his outstretched finger
of hones, 1 had, by this time, become in
some degree accustomed to his presence,
extraordinary as it was; and feeling an
inexpressible curiosity to learn whv the
[VOLUME XXVII.