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GeorgiaHi Statesman. TERMS,—S3 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE,] BY S. MEACHAM. THE OEOHGXA STATESMAN Is published every Tuesday in Millcdgeville, Opposite the State-House Square. ICP Terms.. .. Three Dollars in advance, or Four Dollars if not paid in six months. — No subscription received for less than cue year, unless the money is paid in advance,' and no paper discontinued till all arrea-ages on subscription and advertisements are raid. N. B. —Notice of the sales of land and ne 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 Th# armies were within eight hundred yards of each o ther, the videttes, before they were withdrawn, being so near as to be a ble to converse.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-