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GeorgiaHi Statesman.
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BY S. MEACHAM.
THE
OEOHGXA STATESMAN
Is published every Tuesday in Millcdgeville,
Opposite the State-House Square.
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or Four Dollars if not paid in six months. —
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year, unless the money is paid in advance,'
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groes, by Administrators, Executors, or Guar
dians, must be published sixty days previous
to the day of sale.
The sale of personal property in like man
ner must be published forty days previous to
the day of sale.
Notice that application will be made to the
Court of Ordinary for leave to sell land, must
be published nine months.
Notice that application has been made for
Letters of Administration, must also be pub
lished forty days.
*** All letters directed to the Editor, on
business relating to the Office, must be post
paid.
BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
Among the examples of intense suffering, and
miraculous escape, which the eventfid history
of this day disclosed, there is not one more
calcidated to excite our sympathy, than the
case of the Hon. Colonel Ponsonby, of the
12th Dragoons. The following account was
drawn up by a friend of that gallant officer,
to satisfy Use painfxd curiosity of his family,
taken almost literally from his oicn words ;
an account equally remarkable for its affecting
simplicity and moral reflection.
DEAR LADY B— ,
You have often wished for some
written account of the adventures
and sufferings of your son, Colonel
Ponsonby, in the field of Waterloo :
the modesty of his nature is, howev
er, no small obstacle in the way.
While the following imperfect sketch
supply its place until it comes ? The
battle was alluded to one morning in
the library at A , and his ans
wers to many of the questions which
were put to him are here thrown to
gether, as nearly as I could remem
ber in his own words :
“ The weather cleared up at noon,
and the sun shone out a little just as
the battle began. Th# armies were
within eight hundred yards of each o
ther, the videttes, before they were
withdrawn, being so near as to be a
ble to converse. At one moment I
imagined that I saw Bonaparte, and
a considerable staff moving rapidly
along the front of our line.
“ I was stationed with my regiment
(about 300 strong) at the extremity
of the left wing, and directed to act
tliscretionally : —each of the armies
was drawn up on a gentle declivity,
a gmall valley lying between them.
“ At one o’clock, observing, as I
thought, unsteadiness in a column of
.French infantry, (50 by 20, 1000) or
thereabouts,) which were advancing
with an irregular fire, I resolved to
charge them. As we were descend
ing in a gallop, we received from our
own troops on the right, a fire much
more destructive than theirs, they
having began long before it could
take effect, and slackening as we
drew nearer : when we were within
fifty paces ot them, they turned, and
much execution was done among
them, as we w-cre followed by some
Belgians, who had remarked our suc
cess.
“ But we had no sooner passed
through them, than we were attack
ed in our turn before we could form,
by about 300 polish lancers, who had
come down to their relief. The
French artilery pouring in among us
a heavy fire of grape-shot, which,
however, for one of our men, killed
three of their own: in the melee, 1
was disabled almost instantly in both
of my arms, and followed by a few of
my men, who were presently cut
down, (no quarter being asked or
given,) I was carried on by my horse
till receiving a blow on my head from
a sabre, I was thrown senseless on
my face to the ground. Recovering,
I raised myself a little look round
(being I believe, at that time, in a
condition to get up and run away,)
when a lancer passing by, exclaimed
' Tu n’cs pas mort, coquin,’ and
struck his lance through my back ;
my head dropped, the. blood gusheJJ
into my mouth, a difficulty of breath
ing came on, and I thought all was
over.
" Not long afterwards, (it was then
impossible to measure time, but I
must have fallen in less than ten
minutes after the charge,)a tirailleur
Came up to plunder me, threatening
to take away my life. I told him
that he might search me. directing
him to a small side-pocket, in which
he found three dollars, being all I
had ; he unloosed my stock and tore
open my waistcoat, then leaving me in
a very uneasy posture ; and was no
sooner gone, than another came up for
the same purpose, but assuring him
that 1 had plundered a!r>adv.
he left mo ; Vv L.cn an otficer, bring
ing some troops, (to which probably
the tirallcurs belonged) and halting
where I lay, Stooped down and ad
dressed me, saying, he feared I was
badly wuumied ; 1 replied that 1 was,
and expressed a wish to be removed
into the rear : he said it was against
orders to remove even their own
men, but that if they gained the day,
as they probably would, (for he un
derstood the Duke of Wellington
was killed, and that six of our bat
talion.? had surrendered,) every at
tention in his power should be shewn
me. I complained of thirst, and h
field his brandy-bottle to my lips, di
recting one of his men to lay me
strait on my side, and place a knap
kin under my head ; he then passed
on into the action—and I shall never
know to whose generosity 1 was in
debted, as I concieve, for my life—
of what rank he was, I cannot say, he
wore a blue great coat. By and by
another tirailleur came and knelt
and iired over me loading and firing
many times, and conversing with
great gaiety all the while ; at last he
ran off’, saying ‘ Vous serez bren aise
’dentendre qle nous aliens nous re
tirer; ban jour, mon ami.’
“ While the battle continued in that
part, several of the wounded men
and dead, bodies near me, were hit
with the balls, which came very thick
in that place. Towards evening,
when the Prussians came, the con
tinued roar of the cannon along their’s
and the British line, growing louder
and louder as they drew nearer me,
was the finest thing I ever heard. It
was dark, when two squadrons of
Prussian cavalry, both of them two
deep, passed over me in full trot,
lifting me from the ground, and tum
bling me about cruelly ; the clatter
of their approach, and the apprehen
sions it excited, may be easily con
ceived ; had a gun come that way,
it would have done for me. The
battle was then nearly over, or re
moved to a distance—the cries and
groans of the wounded all around me,
became every instant more and more
audible, succeeding to the shouts,
imprecations, out-cries of ‘Vive l’Em
pereur,’ the discharges of musquet
ry and cannon ; now and then inter
vals of perfect silence, which wer
worse than the noise—l thought the
night would never end. Much a
lioivt rime. I found a soldier of
the Royals lying across my legs,
who had probably crawled thither in
his agony ; his weight, convulsive
motions, his noises, and the air issu
ing through a wound in his side, dis
tressed me greatly, the latter cir
cumstance most of all, as the case
was my own. It was not a dark
night, and the Prussians were wan
dering about to plunder ; (and the
scene in Ferdinand, Count fathom,
came into my mind, though no wo
men, I believe, w re there, several
of them came and looked at me, and
passed on : at length, one stopped
to examine me. I told him as well
as I could, (for I could say but little
in German) that I was a British of
ficer, and had been plundered alrea
dy ; ho did not desist, hoWe.’cr, and
pulled me about roughly, before he
left me. About an hour before mid
night, I saw a soldier in English uni
form, coming towards me ; he was,
I suspect, on the same errand. He
came and looked in my face ; I spoke
instantly, telling him who I was, and
assuring him of a reward, if he would
remain by me. He said that he be
longed to the 40th regiment, but had
missed it. He released me from the
■ lying man ; being unarmed, he took
up a sword from the ground, and
‘-tood over me, pacing baewards and
forwards. At eight o’clock in the
morning, some English were seen at
a distance ; he ran to them, and a
messenger was sent off to Hervey.
A cart came for me. I was placed
in it, and carried to a farm-house, a
bout a mile and a half distant, and
laid in the bed, from which poor Gor
don, (as I understood afterwards,)
had been just carried out ; the jolt
ing of the cart, and the difficulty of
breathing, were very painful. I had
received seven wounds ; a surgeon
slept in my room, and 1 was saved
by continual bleeding, 120 ounces in
in two days, besides the great loss
of blood on th« field.
“ The lances, from their length and
weight would have struck down my
word long before I lost it, if it hail
not been bound to my hand. What
became of my horse I know not ; it
was the best I ever had.
“ The man from the Royals was
still breathing when I was removed
in the morning, and was soon ait r
taken to the hospital.
“ Sir Dennis Pack said, the great
est risk he run the whole day, was
in stopping his men, who were firing
on me and my regiment, when we be
gan to charge. The French make
. great clamour in the actic , the
English only shout.
* Much confusion arose, and many
mistakes, from similarity ol dress.
The Belgians, in particular, suffered
greatly from their resemblance to the
French, being still in the very same
clothe* they had served in, under
Bonaparte,
Hs tibieruTit .a te->, pacisque imponere morem, parcere subjectis et debcllart superbos.— Virgil.
MILLEDGEVILLE, TUESDAY, JUNE 27, 1826.
“Such, probably, is the story of
many a brave man, yet to me it was
new. The historian, describing mil
itary achievements, passes silently
over those who go into the heat of
the battle, though there, as we have
seen, every character displays itself.
The gay, a«e still gay, the noble
minded are still generous ; nor has
the commander, in his proudest tri
umph a better claim to our admi
ration, than the meanest of his sol
diers, when relieving a fallen enemy
in the midst of danger and d< ath.
W. MUDFORI)
From the New York Mirror
THE TRANSPORT.
The great eye of day was open,
and the joyful light filled the air,
heaven, and ocean. The marble
clouds lay motionless, far and wide
over the deep blue sky, and all me
mory of storm and hurricane had
vanished from the magnificence of
that immense calm. There was but
a fluctuation on the deep, and the
sea-birds floated steadily there, or
dipped their wings for a moment in
the wreathed foam, and again wheel
ed sportively away in the sunshine.
One ship—one only single ship—was
within the encircling horizon, and
she had lain there as if at anchor
since the morning light; for although
all her sails were set, scarcely a wan
dering breeze touched her canvas,
but her large flags hung head on star
and at peak, or lifted themselves
uncertainly up at intervals, and then
sunk into motionless repose. The
crew paced not her deck, for they
knew that no breeze would come* till
after meridian—and it was the sab
bath day. A small congregation were
singing praises to God in that chapel
which rested almost as quietly on the
sea as the house of worship in which
they had been used to pray, then
rested far off on a foundation of rock,
in a green valley of their forsaken
Scotland. They were emigrants,
nor hoped ever again to see the mist
of their native mountains. But as
they heard the voice of their psalm,
each singer half forgot that it blend
<»<l with tho Bound of the son. and
almost believed himselfsitting in the
Idrk or his own native parish. But
hundreds of billowy leagues interven
ed be tween i hem and the little tink
ling bell that was now tolling their
happier friends to the house of God.
And now an old gray-headed man
rose to pray, and held up his w ither
ed hand in fervent supplication, for
all around; whom, in good truth, he
called his children; for three genera
tion were with the patriarchs in that
tabernacle. There in one group,
were husbands and wives standing
together, in awe of Him who held
the deep in the hollow of his hand,
there, youths and maidens, linkefl to
gether, by the feeling of the sjme
destiny, some of them perhaps hoping
when they reached the shore, to lay
their heads on one pillow; there chil
dren, hand in hand, happy in the
wonders ot the ocean, and there, mere
infants smiling on the sunny deck,
and unconscious of the meaning of
hymn or prayer. A low, confined,
growling noise was heard struggling
beneath the deck, and a sailor called
with a loud voice, “Fire, fire! the
ship,s on fire!” Holy words died on
.the prayer’s tongue; the congrega
tion fell asnnder; and pale faces,
wild eyes, rent the silence of the
lonesome sea. No one for a while
knew the *other, as all were buried
as in a whirlwind, aip and down the
ship. A dismal heat, all unlike the
warmth of that beautiful sun, came
stifling on every breate. Mothers,
who, in their first terror had shud
dered but for themselves, now clasp
ed their infants to their breasts, and
lifted their eyes te heaven. Bold
brave men, grew white as ashes; and
hands strengthened by toil and storm,
trembled like the aspen leaf. “Gone
—gone —we are all gone!” was now
the cry; yet no one knew from whence
that cry came! and men glared re
proachfully on each other’s coun
tenances, and strove to keep down
the audible beating of their own
heart. The desperate love of life
drove them instinctly to their sta
tions, and the water was poured as
by the strength of giants, down among
smouldering flames. But the dt -
vouring elements roared up into the
air; and deck,masts,sails,and shrouds
were one cracking and hissing sheet
of fire. “Let down the boat!” was
now the yell or hoarse voices ! and
in an instant, she was filled with life.
There was frantic leaping into the
sea; and all w ho were fast drowning,
moved convulsively the lit
tle ark. Some sunk down at once
into oblivion, some grasped at no
thing with their disappearing hands;
some seized in vain unqueriched
pieces of the fiery wreck; some
would fain have saved a friend almost
in the last agonies; and some, strong
in a savage despair, tore from them
the clenched fingers that would have
dragged'them ooWn and forgot, in
fear, both love and pity. Enveloped
in flames and smoke, yet insensible
as a corpse to the burning, a frantic
mother flung down her babe among
the crew; and as it fell among the
upward oars unharmed, she shrieked
out a prayer thanksgiving. “Go
hu-band, go; for I am content to die.
Oh ! live, live, my husband, for our
darling Willy’s sake.” But in the
prime of life, and with his manly bo
som full of health and hope, the
husband looked but for a moment,
till he saw his child was safe; and
then, taking his young wife in his
arms, sat dowu beneath the burning
fragments of the sail, with the rest
that were resigned never more to
rise up, till th- sound of the last
trumpet, whcn»*the faithful and the
afflicted shall be raised to breathe
for ever the empyrean air..
New-York Mirror, and Ladies Literray
Gazette. —We are frequently indebted to this
neat, chaste, and excellent paper, for articles
which we publish:—Wc wish it had a more ex
tensive circulation among the ladies of our
state, and do recommend it to their notice
with much earnestness. The folio” ing is the
notice the editor himself gives of his plan to
please the reading part of the female com
munity.—ED. s.
It is now nearly three years since
we first offered the New-York Mirror
to the public, and the ample encour
agement it has met with during that
period demands, not merely our war
mest acknowledgements, but our ut
most endeavours to render it stilL
more worthy of the patronage w hich
has been so liberally bestowed upon
it. It has ever beeu our wish to a
void the too common practice of
sending periodical journals forth, ac
companied by abundant promises,
which are never kept, and whatever
the defects of the Mirror may have
been, we trust that its merits have
been, at least, equal to its pretensions.
We can boldly assert, that we h%vc
at no time spared any effort or ex
pense, w ithin our power, to give inte
rest to these columns; and from the
patronage it has received, we have
reason to believe that our endeavours
ha Vo not V>o«sn wkwllj Virmixr.*:lill,
even when our literary resources
have been most limited.
The first number of the next vol
ume which will be issued on the
twenty-ninth day of July, will receive
an entirely new and beautiful dress,
and, from the increased extent of our
correspondence, and the various—
means we have recently received for
supplying these columns with origi
nal matter, we trust the intrinsic
value of this journal will not be less
improved than its external appear
ance.
The great increase of population,
and the equally rapid advancement
of literary taste and pursuits in our
conntry, give room for the support
of a variety of ot er journals, besides
the common gazettes of the day
Well-conducted quarterly and month
ly magazines are the proper recep
tacles foe detailed reviews, scientific
dissertations, and articles of a heavy
and elaborate kind; we have need,
however, of something of a lighter
character to fill the intermediate rank
between those and the daily papers.
None can answer this purpose better
than a weekly publication, devoted
to such literary subjects as cotne
within the cognisance of any person
of taste and information, and con
taining tales and essays of snch
moderate length, as any one, posses
sing a common share of leisure, may
peruse with pleasure an dprofit. Arti
cles af this kind have generally oc
cupied a considerable portion of the
Mirror, but we have not, nor shall w e
at any time, allow them to exclude
all notice of such local affairs and
passing events as may properly come
within our sphere of remark. Public
improvements, in particular, shall
ever claim a portion of our regard,
and the drama will also continue to
be an object of our critical observa
tion.
Our late humber efforts to encou
rage laudable emulation among —
native writers, by offering prizes to
the successful competitors in dif
ferent branches of compositson, we
are confident has met with general
approbation. We intend to follow
the same course in future, and will
shortly make known the conditions
on which the Next Prizes are to be
given.
It has been our object in the selec
tion of subjects, to combine tb
pleasant with the useful, that our
article-might neither be too heavy
nor too trivial for the generality of
readers, and we have always had due
regard to the taste of our amiable and
lovely countrywomen, It is for their
especial perusal that the .Mirror is in
a great measure designed, and any
publication, wc are convinced, which
is so conducted as to meet the ap
probation of the American ladies,
(and many of the first respectability
Can be found on our subscription list,)[
is also entitled to the notice and cn-
couragement of the Male Part of
society.—Among the most popular
and excellent periodicals published
in London, are those, whigh, like this
paper, court the particular patronage
ol the ladies, and if the encourage
ment ol the females of London is
sufficient to raise and sustain in the
rank of eminence, the publications
designed for their reading, there can
be no doubt that the Fair of this coun
try —have a sufficiency of taste and
liberality to do the same. It was
from this conviction, that we adopt
ed the second title which our work
still bears, and we shall ever be proud
to ow n for it the name ol the “ Ladies'
Literary Gazette .”
Once more we deem it necessary
to state, lor the information of distant
readers, that the Mirror is devoted,
(through not exclusively,) to the fol
lowing subjects:
Origina Moral Tales —cither fic
titious, or founded on events of real
life, in the United States of America.
The Ct nsor —comprising a series of
numbers —pathetic, satirical, moral,
humourous,&c. denominated the Lit
tle Genius. This department of our
paper has already excited uncommon
interest in the public, and drawn
from various sources the most lavish
praise.
Review —of publications, foreign or
domestic. .
Original Essays —on literature,
morals, history, voyages, travels, —
American antiquities, the fine ars, &c.
Female Character —manners, beau
ty, dress, and education.
American Biography- —or historical
sketches of the lives of such persons,
of both sexes, as have become cele
brated for their heroism, virtue, for
titude, talents, patriotism, &c.
Literary Intelligence —or notices of
n< w publications.
The Drama —comprising strictures
on the New-York stage.
Desultory Selection* —w ith occasio
nal remarks.
Anecdotes —humourous, literary,
historical, &.C,
Passing Events of the week.
Pnetrp nriginal nml selected J
Together with many other miscel
laneous subjects which it would be
unneccessary now toenumerate.
From this condensed view of our
paper, it will, be seen, that with the
intimate connexion which this great
emporium of commerce, arts, and
sciences, has with every other part
of the world—the ready sources of
knowledge which that opens to us,
added to the eminent talent enlisted
in our support —wc cannot fail to
present to our readers a weekly pa
per, so interesting, amusing, and
instructive, as to merit the attention
of every lover of literature.
Proceedings on the Creek Treaty.
Tuesday, Jan. 31, 1826.
The following Message was received from the
President of the United States, by Mr. John
Adams, Jr.
To the Senate of the United States.
Washington, 31st Jan. 182 G.
I transmit herewith to the Senate,
for their consideration, and advice,
with regard to its ratification, a Trea
ty, concluded by the Secretary of
War, duly authorized thereto, with
the Chiefs and Headmen of the
Creek nation, deputed by them, and
now in this city.
It has been agreed upon, and is
presented to the consideration ofthe
Senate, I 'as a substitute for the Treaty
signed at the Indian Springs on the
12th of February last. The circum
stances under which this received, on
the 3d ol March last your advice and
consent to its ratification, are known
to you. It was transmitted to me
from the Senate on the sth March,
and ratified in full confidence, yield
ed to the advice and consent of the
Senate, under a firm belief, founded
on the Journal of the Commusioners
of the United States, and on the ex
press statements in the letter ot on.
of them of the 16th of February, to
the then Secretary of War, that it
had been concluded with a large ma
jority of the chiefs of the Creek na
tion, and with a reasonable prospect
of immediate acquiescence by tb*
remainder. This xpectation has not
been merely disappointed. The first
measures for carrying the treaty into
execution hadscearcely been taken,
when the two principal Chieis who
had signed it fell victims to the ex
asperation of the great mass of the
nation, and their families and depend
ents, far from being able to execute
the engagements on their part, fled
for life, safety, and subsistence, from
the territories which they had assum
ed to cede, to our own. Yet, in this
fugitive condition, and while subsist
ing on tho bounty of the United
Slates, they have been found ad vanc
cing pretentions to receive exclusive
ly to themselves the whole ot the
sums stipulated by the Commission
ers of the United States in payment
for atl tho lands of the Cre< k nation
which were ceded by the terms of the
[OR <M IF NOT PAID IN SIX MONTHS.
NO. 28....V0L. I.
treaty. And they have claimed tho
stipulation of the eighth article, that
the United State would “ protect the
emigrating party against the en
croachments, hostility, and imposi
tions of the whites, and of all others,”
as an engagement by which
ted States were bound to become tho
instruments of their vengeance, and
to inflicct upon the majority of the
Creek nation the punishment of Indi
an retribution, to gratify the vindic
tive fury of an impotent and 1 helpless
mmoritv of their own tribe.
In this state of things, the question
is not, whether the treaty of the 12th
of February last shall or Shall not be
executed. So far as the United
States were or could be bound by it,
I have been anxiously desirous of
carrying it into execution. But, like
other treaties, its fulfilment depends
upon the will, not of one, but of both
the parties to it. The parties on the
face of the treaty are, the Uuited
States and the Creek nation ; and,
however desirous one of them may
be to give it effect, this wish must
prove abortive, while the other par
ty refuses to perform its stipulations,
and disavows its obligations. By the
refusal of the Creek nation to per
form their part of the treaty, the
United States arq absolved from all its
engagements on their part, and tb®
alternative left them is, either to re
sort to measures of war, to secure by
force the advantages stipulated to
them in the treaty, or to attempt the
adjustment of the interest by anew
compact. In the preference dicta
ted by the nature of our institutions,
and by the sentiments of justice and
hnmanity which the occasion requires
for measures of peace, the treaty
herewith transmitted has been con
cluded, and is submitted to the de
cision of the Senate. After exhaust
ting every effort in our power to ob
tain the acquiescence of the Creek
nation to the treaty of the 12th of
February, I entertained for some
time the hope that their assent might
at least have been given to anew
treaty, by which all their lands with
in the State of Georgia should have
been ceded. This has also proved
impracticable : and although the ex
cepted porti n is of comparatively
small amount and importance, I have
assented to its exception so far as to
place it before the Senate, only from
a couviction that between it and a
resort to the forcible expulsion of the
Creeks from their habitations and
lands within the State of Georgia,
there w-as no middle term.
with which the trea
ty has been concluded consists ofthe
principal Chiefs of the Nation, ablo
not only to negotiate, but to carry
into effect, the stipulations to which
they have agreed. There is a dep
utation also here from the small par
ty, which undertook to contract for
the whole nation at the treaty of tho
12th of February, but the numbers
of w hich according to the informa
tion collected by General Gaines,
does not exceed four hundred. They
represent themselves’ indeed, to bo
far more numerous ; but, whatever
their number may be, their interests
have been provided for in the treaty
now submitted. 'Their subscriptions
to it would also have beeu received,
but for unreasonable protensions rai
sed by them after all the arrange
ments ofthe treaty had been agreed
upon, and it was actually signed.
Whatever their merits may have
been, in the facility with which they
ceded all the lands of their nation
within the State of Georgia, their ut
ter inability to perform the engage
ments which they so readily contrac
ted, exorbitancy of their de
mands, when compared with the in
efficacy of their own means of per
formance, leave them with no claims
upon the Uuited States other than
oi impartial and rigorous justice.
In refering to the impressions undgu
which I ratified the treaty ofthe 12th
of February last, I do not deem it
necessary to decide upon the pro
priety of the manner in which it was
negotiated. Deeply regretting tho
criminations and recriminations to
which these events have given rise,
1 believe the public interest will bo
best consulted by discarding (hem al
together from the discussion of the
subject. The great body of the
Craek nation inflexible refuse to ac
knowledge or to execute that treaty.
Upon this ground it w ill be set aside
should the Senate advise and con
sent to the ratification of that now
commuuiqated, without looking back
to the rnotins bv which the other was
effected.' And, in the adjustment of
the terms of the present treaty, 1
have been particularly anxious to
dispense a measure of great liberal
ity to both parties ofthe Creek na
tion, rather than to extort from them
a bargain, of which the advantages
on our part could only be purchased
by hardship on theirs.
JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
The message, treaty, and accoir-