The Southern sentinel. (Columbus, Ga.) 1850-18??, May 16, 1850, Image 1

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THE SOUTHERN SENTINEL. Is published every Thursday Morning, IX COLUMBUS, GA. fcY WILLIAM H. CHAMBERS, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. To vrhoiu all communications must be directed, post paid Office on Randolph Street. Terms of Subscription. One copy twelve months, in advance, - - $2 50 “ Not in advance, -3 00 ‘• Six “ “ - 150 txT Where the subscription is not paid during the year, 15 cents will be charged for every month’s delay, i No subscription will be received lor less than six months, and none discontinued until all arrearages are paid, except at the option of the proprietor. To Clubs. Five copies twelve months, ... £lO 00 Ten “ “ 10 00 trsP The money from Clubs must in all cases ac company the names, or the price of a single subscription Nvill be charged. Kates of Advertising. One Square, first insertion, - - SI 00 “ “ Each subsequent insertion, - 50 A liberal deduction on these terms will be made in favor of those who advertise by the year. Advertisements not specified as to time, will be pub lished till forbid, and charged accordingly. Monthly Advertisements will be charged as new Ad vertisements at each insertion. I.cgnl Advertisements. N. 15.—Sales of Lands, by Administrators, Ex- i feufors,Or Guardians,are required by law to beheld on j die first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of 10 I hi the forenoon, and 3 in the afternoon, at the Court I llinisc in the county in which the land is situated. No- ! fioe-s of these sales must lx: given in a public gazette 1 sixty days previous to the day of sale. .Sales of Nkgrof.s must be made at a public auction I bn the first Tuesday of the month, between the usual hours of sale, at the place of public sales in the county when: the Letters Testamentary, of Administration or Guardianship, may have been granted, first giving sixty pays notice thereof in one of the public gazettes of this Ktate, and at the door of the Court House, where such Safes arc to be held. Notice for the. sale of Personal property must be given ’ in like manner forty days previous to the day of sale. Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an e.-tate must i be published forty days. Notice that application will bo made to the Court of i Ordinary lor leave to tell Land, must be published for | FOUR MONTHS. Notice for leave to sell Negroes must be published for i four months, before any order absolute snail be made I thereon by the Court. Citations for Letters of Administration, must bo pub- | lished thirty days—for dismission from administration, | monthly six months —for disnii*-iou horn Guardianship, I forty days. Rlt.es for the foreclosure of a Mortgage must be pub- ! lished monthly for four months —for establishing losi papers, for the full space of three months —for cotn- i telling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a sond has been given by the deceased, the full space of three months. Publications will always be continued according to these legal requirement-*, unless otherwise ordered. SOUTHERN SENTINEL Job Office. HAVING received anew and extensive assortment ! of Job Material, we are prepared to execute at this offiee, all orders tor .1015 YVOR K, in a manner which cap not he excelled in the. State, on very liberal terms, and at the shortest notice. We feel confident of our ability to give entire satisfac tion in every variety of Job Printing, including Books, Business Cards , Pamphlets, BUI Heads, ('irndars, Blanks of every description, Hand Bills, Bills of Lading, Posters, dye. dye. d(*r. In short, all descriptions of Printing which can bo ex ecuted at any office in the country, will be turned out with elegance and despatch. Dyeing and Renovating Establishment. BERTIIOLD SENCER A A TOUI.I) respectfully inform the ladies and gentle- T t men of Columbus, and vicinity, that lie is still at his old stand on Broad Street, near the Market, where i lie is prepared to execute all work entrusted to him, in ; the various departments of Dyeing, Scouring, Kenovntiim, S: Bleaching new and old clothing. Ladies’ Silks, Merinocs, and j ♦Satins, cleansed of stains and impurities, and colored to , any shade. Also finished to look and wear as well as new. Cotton, Silk, and Woolen goods bleached or dyed, in the very best manner, and with despatch. Also, Moserine Blue, Turkey Red. &e. &e. Gentlemen’s garments cleansed and dyed so as not to soil the whitest linen. Carpeting renovated and made as good as new. J ‘ All orders thankfully received and promptly ex ecuted. Columbus, Marelf2l, 1850. 12 ts Planters, Take Notice. Saw Mills, Grist Mills, Factories, Gin Gear, Rice Mills, and Sugar Mills. rpHE firm of AMBLER &. MORRIS are now | .1 ready to build any of the above named Mills,pro pelled by Water, Steam or Horse. Our work shall be done in the best possible manner, and warranted inferior to none now in use. Both of the above firm are practi cal men, and attend to their business in person,and will furnish Engines for Steam Mills. Grist or Saw, and set either in complete operation. The firm can give the best assortment of Water Wheels and Gearing, of any in | flu: Southern States, and will say to our employers, if a ; Mill or any of our work does not perform in thebusi- j ness for which it was intended, no pay will be exacted. Trv us and see. AMBLER’ &. MORRIS. Jan. 24, 1850. 4 ly Important TO MILL OWNERS AND PLANTERS. rpilE undersigned will contract for building Rock 1 Dams, or any kind of rock work and ditching, in j auy part of this State or Georgia, in the most improved j manner. TIMOTHY 15. COLLINS, Fort Mitchell, Russell, County, Ala. j Dec. 6, 1819. 49 6m To Physicians, Druggists AND COUNTRY MERCHANTS. OR. J. N. KEELER & BRO. most respectfully solicit attention to their fresh stock of English, French, German and American Drugs, Medicines,Chem icals, Paints, Oils. Dye-stuffs,Glassware, Perfumer}'. &c. Having opened anew store, No. 291 Market St., with a full supply of Fresh Drugs and Medicines, we respect fully solicit country dealers to examine our stock before | purchasing elsewhere, promising one and all who may ] be disposed to extend us their patronage, to sell them j genuine Drugs and Medicines, on as liberal terms as any j other house in the city, and to faithfully execute all or- j dors entrusted to us promptlv and with dispatch. One of ; the proprietors being a regular physician, affords ample ! guarantee of the quality of all articles sold at their es- tahlishiticnt. We especially invite and country j merchant-, who may weh to become agents tor Dr. Keeler's Celebrated Family Medicines, (standard and popular medicines,) to forward their address. Soliciting the patronage of dealers, we respectfully ri main KEELER & BRO. Wholesale Druggists, No. 219 Market St., Phil’a. Oct. 11. 1819. ly Marble Works, East side Broad St. near the Market House, COLUMBUS, GA. HAVE constantly on hand all kinds of Grave Stone*. Monuments, Tomb* and Tablets, of American, 1 Italian and Irish Marble. Engraving and carving done on stone in the best possible manner ; and all kinds of Granite Work at the shortest notice. JOHN H. MADDEN. P. S.—Plaistcr of Paris and Cement, always #ll hand for sale. ! Columbus, March 7, 1850. 10 ts AY INTERS PALACE MILLS. | 17'AMILIES, hy leaving tlieir names with me, can be supplied regularly by my Wagon,at their residences, with MEAL and HOMINV. of host quality. JO. JEFFERSON, Clerk. Fob. 28, ls:>0. ts NORTH CAROLINA mutual Life Insurance Company. LOCATED AT RALEIGH. N. C. r I''HE Charleroi thl- company gives important advan- I tagesto the assured, over most other companies. The husband can insure his own life for the sole use and benefit of his wite and children, free from any other claims. Persons who insure for life participate in the profits which are declared annually, and when the pre mium exceeds 830. may pay one-half in a note. Slaves arc insured at two-thirds their value for one or five years. , Applications for Risks may be made to JOHN MUNN, Agent. Columbus, Ga. J -sr” Office at Greenwood & Co.'s Warehouse. Nov. 15,1819. ts WINTER’S PALACE”MILLS HAVE now a good supply of fresh ground Flour, of three qualities; say FINE, SUPERFINE, and FANCY brands; each kind is made from the best of Western Wheat, and the only difference is the color. The price by retail is, for Fine, S3 per half barrel; Su perfine, $3 25 per half barrel; Fancy, S3 50 per half barrel. Discount made to those who buy to sell again. Quarter barrels arc sold proportionately cheap. JO.-JEFFERSON, Clerk. Dee 27 1819. *stf VOL. I. I SEE THEE STILL. BY WILLIS GAYLORD CLARKE. I see thee still! R mombrancc, faithful to her trust, Calls thee in beauty from the dust; Thou eome-t in the morning light— Thou’rt with me through the gloomy night; In dreams I meet thee as of old. When thy soft amis my neck enfold, And thy sweet voice is in my ear ; In every scene to memory dear— I see thee still! I see thee- still! In ever}- hallowed token round ; This little ring thy finger bound— This lock of hair thy forehead shaded, This silken chain by thee- was braided ; The flowers, all withered now like thee, Beloved, thou didst cull for me ! This hook was thine—here didst thou read— This picture, ah ! yes here, indeed, I see thee Till! I see thee still! Herr was thy summer-noon’s retreat, This was thy favorite fire-side seat, Thy was thy chamber, where each day, I sat and watched thy sad decay ; Here, on this bed, thou last didst lie, lice, on this pillow, thou didst die ! I lark hour! once more its woe? unfold— As then I saw thee, pale and cold, I see thee still! I see thee still! Thou art not in tire tomb confined ; Death cannot claim the immortal mind ; Ist earth clo-e o’er its sacred trust, Yet goodness dies not in the dust ; Thee, oh ! beloved, ‘tis not tl;e, Beneath the coffin’s lid I see ; Thou to a fairer land art gor.c— There, let me hojie, my journey done, To sec thee still.’ THE BATTLES OF LEXINGTON AND CONCORD. “'Hie people of Lexington received on the morning of April 18, 1775, two messages, relative to the British troops. The lirst. was verbal, and of course less regarded; the se cond in writing, was sent by express from the Committee of Safety, then sitting in Cam bridge. This written message was directed to ‘Hon. John Hancock, Esq./ who, with the lion. Samuel Adams, was spending the night at the house of the Rev. Thomas Clark, in Lexington. The message contained these warning words—‘Eight or nine of the offi cers of the king’s troops were seen just before night, passing the road towards Lexington, in a musing, contemplative posture; and it was suspected that they w ere out upon some evil design.’ Whether this message contained any other cautions or information, 1 have not been able to ascertain. As the lion. Samuel Adams had been long obnoxious to the British administration, and as the Hon. John Hancock ‘had been more than once’ personally insulted by some offi cers of the troops ‘in Boston,’ it was feared that an expedition was preparing to arrest ! and execute these leaders of the ‘rebels,’ as our patriots were then branded. To prevent any tiling of this kind, ten or twelve men armed themselves, and guarded Rev. Mr. Clark’s house through the night. In the evening the officers referred to in the message, passed through Lexington towards Concord. At ten o’clock three men on horse hack, were dispatched from Lexington as a corps of observation, to follow them. In the borders of Lincoln, these three men were made prisoners by the officers, and kept sev eral hours, examined, and inhumanly abused. This apparent discovery seemed to discon i cert the plans of the officers, who then efl’ee ; ted a hasty retreat, and left the prisoner? in Lexington, on their return. What the real object of these officers was, has never been ascertained; but the opinion was then, and still is, that they were proceeding to Con cord, where Hancock and Adams were sup i posed to he attending the Provincial Con i gross, to arrest and convey them to Boston in the night. Their purpose, however, would have been defeated, even if they had not been detected. For Hancock and Adams had providentially retired to spend the night in Lexington, with their fellow patriot and friend, the Rev. Mr. Clark. On the morning of April 10th, between the hours of twelve and one o’clock, a third message reached Lexington. It was by ex press from the lion. Joseph Warren, of Bos ton ; it stated that a large body of the King’s troops (supposed to be a brigade about 12 or 1500) were embarked in boats from Bos ton, and gone over to land on Lechmcre’s Point, (so called,) in Cambridge ; and it was ; shrewdly suspected, that they were ordered to seize and destroy the stores, belonging to j the colony, then deposited at Concord. [lt • should be noted that the colonial government j deposited these stores in Concord, because General Gage had seized the provincial mag azine of powder at Medford, and other col ony stores in several other places.] The message spread alarm through the town, and the militia were ordered to assem ble forthwith at the usual place of parade, by. the meeting house. They did assemble im mediately, and were ready to act as duty and prudence might require. Messengers were sent to explore the route of the troops, and, if possible, gain a knowledge of their purpose. Before four o’clock, one messenger returned, and said there was no appearance of troops on the road either from Charlestown or Cam bridge; and the common opinion was, that the movements mentioned by the Hon. Jo seph Warren, were only a feint to alarm the people. Upon this intelligence, the militia company was dismissed, but ordered to re main within call of the drum. The object was to await the return of the other messen ger, who was expected in an hour. But the troops were too wary for him, and reached the place where he was, and seized him, which was the first intimation he had of their approach. By this accident, the people of Lexington had no notice of their approach till the ‘brigade was actually in the town up on a quick march, and not more than a mile and a quarter from the meeting house and the place of parade.* At half-past four o’clock, ‘alarm guns were tired, and the drums beat to arms,’ and the militia, to the number of fifty or sixty, promptly assembled on the parade ground. ; Almost at the same moment, the British troops arrived, halted about twenty rods be fore they -reached the meeting house, and were there ordered to ‘prime and load,’ which they did. The troops then marched up to the east end of the meeting house, and saw our men about a dozen rods distant to the north. Capt. Parker, who commanded the Lexington company, then ordered his men immediately ‘to disperse and take care of themselves’—but commanded them ‘not to fire.’ The inen obeyed instantly, and began §%e Soutljcni ScwtincL to disperse, though many of them loitered, perhaps desirous to see the end. When the British troops came in sight, one, supposed to be an officer of rank, was heard to exclaim to the troops, ‘Damn them, we will have them,’ which was followed by a huzza of the British, who rushed on towards our men, who were dispersing. Then three officers, thought to be Col. Smith, Maj. Pit cairn, and another, rode in front of the Brit ish troops, and advanced within five or six rods of our men ; and one of them cried out, ‘you villains, you rebels, disperse; damn you, disperse,’ or such like words; and the same, or another officer, exclaimed, ‘lay down your arms, damn you, why don’t you lay down your arms ?’ Maj. Pitcairn then fired a pistol towards our militia; and the officer who was now nearest our men and within a few yards of them, brandished his sword, and pointing to our men, commanded in a loud voice, “Fire! by God, fire!” The command was instantly obeyed by a discharge of arms, and was suc ceeded by a heavy fire upon our dispersing men, which continued as long as any of out men w-ore within musket shot. By this on set eight of our men were left dead on the field, to wit: Robert Munro, Jonas Parker, Samuel Hadley, Jonathan Harrington, Jr., Isaac Muzzey, Caleb Harrington, and John Brown, of Lexington, and Mr. Porter, of Woburn. And ten were wounded, to wit: Jedediah Munro, Thomas Winship, Nathan iel Farmer, John Robbins, Solomon Pierce, John Field, Joseph Comee, Ebenezer Munro, Jr., and Prince, (negro) of Lexington, and Jacob Bacon, of Woburn. General Gage stated to his government and the world, that the British troops were tired upon from the meeting house by the “re bels,” before the British made the attack. This statement was not true. The fact was, that four of our men were in the meeting house at the time, providing themselves with ammunition from the town stock. But they had not even loaded their guns, except one man, who never discharged it at all, till the firing commenced. After this disgraceful action, the British troops formed in a body on the common, back of the meeting house, fired a volley in token of their triumph, and gave three huzzas. These troops then left Lexington, and pro ceeded to Concord. They reached Lexing ton on their retreat about the middle of the af ternoon, or a little later, but they were so worn down by the rough usage received from the patriots in Concord, and by their other fatigues and loss of men, that it was thought that they were preparing to surrender at dis cretion. They were spared this humiliation, howev er, by the arrival of Lord Percy with a brig ade of 1000 men and two field pieces, who joined them about a mile from Lexington meeting house, on the Cambridge road. The reinforcement put a stop for a time to the fir ing on both sides. Yet, no sooner did the King’s troops begin their retreating march, than our men renewed, with additional intre pidity, their attacks. The skirmishing con tinued without intermission ti’l the close of the day, when our patriots had pursued them into Charlestown. On their retreat through Lexington, the British killed Jedediah Munro, who was wounded in the morning; John Raymonds, and Nathaniel Wyman, and wounded Fran cis Brown, all of Lexington. The humbled British troops took their revenge for the mor tification of being beaten, by committing all manner of outrage during the retreat. In Lexington, they reduced three dwelling hou ses, two shops, and one barn, to ashes. These were the house and barn ot Deacon Loring ; the house of Mrs. Lydia Mulliken, her son’s shop, and the house and shop of Mr. Joshua Bond. Thus ended the celebrated battle of Lex ington—an action which led to consequences of the deepest interest and impportance to the freedom and happiness of the civilized world. From Lexington, the British, after their work of death, pushed on (as is well known) to Concord, where another bloody strife en sued. The intelligence of their approach had been communicated to the citizens ot the town by Dr. Lemuel Prescott, who, on his way from Lexington, was seized by a com pany of British officers, but who, although the reins of his horse had been cut in the struggle with them, succeeded, hy leaping a stone wall, in making his escape and reach ing Concord.* The interval was employed in removing a* portion ot the public stores to the neighboring towns, while the aged and infirm —the women and children, sought ref uge in the surrounding woods. “in an oration delivered at Concord, April 10, 1825, Hon. Edward Everett thus de scribes the strife at Concord, the retreat of the British, and the gallant bearing of the Americans who engaged in the pursuit. Air. Everett says: “About seven o’clock in the morning, the glittering arms of the British column were seen advancing on the Lincoln road. A body of militia, from one hundred and fifty to two hundred men, who had taken post for obser vation on the heights above the entrance to the town, retire at the approach ot the army of the enemy, first to the hill a little farther north, and then beyond the bridge. The British troops press forward into the town, and are drawn up in front ot the court-house. Parties are then ordered out to the various spots where the public stores and arms were supposed to be deposited. Much had been removed to places of safety, and something was saved by the prompt and innocent artifi ces of individuals. The destruction ol prop erty and of arms was hasty and incomplete, and considered as the object ot an enterprise of such fatal consequences, it stands in shock ing contrast with the waste of blood by which it was efi’eeted. It was the first care of the British com mander to cut off the approach of the Amer icans from the neighboring towns, by de stroying or occupying the bridges. A party was immediately sent to the south bridge and tore it up. A foree of six companies, under Captains Parsons and Lowrie. was sent to the north bridge. Three companies under i Captain Lowrie were left to guard it, and three under Captain Parsons proceeded to Col. Barrett’s house, in search of provincial stores. While they were engaged on that er rand, the militia of Concord, joiued by their brave brethren from the neighboring towns, ; gathered on the hill opposite the north bridge, under the command of Colonel Robinson and Major Buttrick. The British companies at COLUMBUS, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, MAY 16, 1850. the bridge were now apparently bewildered j with the perils of their situation, and began j to tear up the planks of the bridge; not re- | membering that this would expose their own party, then at Col. Barrett’s, to certain and entire destruction. The Americans, on the other hand, resolved to keep open the com munication with the town, and perceiving the attempt which was made to destroy the ! bridge, were immediately put in motion, with orders not to give the first fire. They drew near to the bridge, the Acton company in front, led on by the gallant Davis. Three alarm guns were fired into the water, bv the British, without arresting the march of our citizens. The signal for a general discharge is then made; a British soldier steps from the ranks, and fires at Major Buttrick. The ball passed between his arm and his side, and slightly wounded Mr Luther Blanchard, who j stood near him. A volley instantly followed, j and Captain Davis was shot through the heart, gallantly marching at the head of the Acton militia against the choice troops of the British line. A private of his company, Mr. Hosmer, of Acton, also fell at his side. A genera 1 action now ensued, which termina ted in the retreat of the British party, after the loss of several killed and wounded, to ward the centre of the town, followed by the brave band who had driven them from their post The advance party of British at Col. Barrett’s was thus left to its fate; and noth ing would have been more easy than to effect its entire destruction. But the idea of a de clared war had yet scarcely forced itself, with all its consequences, into the minds of our countrymen ; and these advanced companies were allowed to return unmolested to the main band. It was now twelve hours since tho first alarm had been given the evening before, of the meditated expedition. The swift watch es of that eventful night had scattered the ti dings far and wide; and w ildly as they spread, the people rose in their strength. The genius of America, on this the morning of her emancipation, had sounded her horn over the plains and upon the mountains; and the indignant yeomanry of the land, armed j with the weapons which had done service in their fathers’ hands, poured to the spot where this new and strange tragedy was acting. The old New England drums, that had beat at Louisburgh, at Quebec, at Martinique, at the Havana, were now sounding on all the roads to Concord. There were officers in the British line, that knew the sound; they had heard it, in the deadly breach, beneath the black, deep-throated engines of the French and Spanish castles, and they knew what followed, where that sound went before. With the British it was a question no longer of protracted contest, nor even of halting long enough to rest their exhausted troops, after a weary night’s march, and all the labor, con fusion, and distress of the day’s efforts. Their dead were hastily buried in the public square; their wounded placed in the vehicles which the town afforded ; and a flight com menced to which the annals of warfare will hardly afford a parallel. On all the neighbor ing hills were multitudes from the surround ing country, of the unarmed and infirm, of women and children, who had fled from the terrors and the perils of the plunder and con flagration of their homes; or were collected, with fearful curiosity, to mark the progress of this storm of war. The panic fears of a calamitous flight on the part of the British, transformed this inoffensive, timid throng into a threatening array of armed men ; and there was too much reason for the misconception. Every height of ground, within reach of the line of march, was covered with the indig nant avengers of their slaughtered brethren. The British light companies were sent out to great distances as flanking parties ; but who was to flank the flankers t Every patch of trees, every rock, every stream of water, eve ry building, every stone wall was lined, (I use the words of a British officer in the bat tle.) with an unintermitted fire. Every cross road opened anew avenue to the assailants. Through one of these the gallant Brooks led up the minute men of Reading. At another defile, they were encountered by the Lexing ton militia, under Captain Parker, who, un dismayed at the loss of more than a tenth their number in killed and wounded in the morning, had returned to the conflict. At first the contest was kept up by the British, with all the skill and valor'of veteran troops. To a military eye it was not an unequal con test. The commander was not, or ought not to have been taken by surprise. Eight, hun dred picked men, grenadiers and light infan try, from the English army, were no doubt considered by General Gage a very ample detachment to march eighteen or twenty miles through an open country ; and a very fair match for all the resistance which could be made by unprepared husbandmen, with out concert, discipline or leaders. With about ten times their number, the Grecian commander had forced a march out of the wrecks of a field of battle and defeat, through the barbarous nations of Asia, for thirteen long months, from the plains of Babylon to the Black Sea, through forests, defiles, and deserts, which the foot of civilized man had never trod. It was the American cause—its holy foundation in truth and right, its strength and life in the hearts of the people, that con verted what would naturally have been the undisturbed march of a strong, well provided army, into a rabble rout of terror and death. It was this, which sowed the fields of our pa cific villages with dragon’s teeth; which nerved the arm of age; called the ministers and servants of the church into the hot fire; and even filled with strange passion and man ly strength the arm of the stripling. A Brit ish historian, to paint the terrific aspect of things that presented itself to his country men, declares that the rebels swarmed upon the hills, as if they dropped from the clouds. Before the flying troops had reached Lexing ! ton, their rout was entire. Some of the offi ! cers had been made prisoners, some had been killed, and several wounded, and among them the commander-in-chief, Col. Smith. | The ordinary means of preserving discipline ! failed; the wounded, in chaises and wagons, pressed to the front and obstructed the road ; wherever the flanking parties, from the na ture of the ground, were forced to come in, the line of march was crowded and broken, j the ammunition began to fail; and at length the entire body was on a full run. ‘We at tempted,’ says a British officer already quo ted, ‘to stop the men and form them two deep, but to no purpose; the confusion rath ; er increased than lessened.’ An English historian says, the British sol -1 diers were driven before the Americans like sheep ; till, by a last desperate effort, the offi cers succeeded in forcing their way to the front, ‘when they presented their swords and bayonets against the breasts of their own men, and told them, if they advanced they should die.’ Upon this they began to form, under what the same British officer pronoun ces ‘a very heavy fire,’ which must soon have led to the destruction or capture of the whole corps. At this critical moment a reinforce ment arrived. Col. Smith had sent back a messenger from Lexington to apprize Gener al Gage of the check he had there received, and of the alarm which was running through the country. Three regiments of infantry and two divisions of marines with two field pieces, under the command of Brigadier General Lord Percy, were accordingly de tached. They marched out of Boston, through Roxbury and Cambridge, and came up with the flying party, in the hour of their extreme peril. While their field pieces kept the Americans at bay, the reinforcement drew up in a hollow square, into which, says the British historian, they received the ex hausted fugitives, ‘who lay down on the ground, with their tongues hanging from their mouths, like dogs after a chase.’ A half hour was given to rest; the march was then resumed; and under cover of the field pieces, every house in Lexington, and on the road downwards, was plundered and and set on fire. Though the flames in most cases were speedily extinguished, several houses were destroyed. Notwithstanding the attention of a great part of the Ameri cans was thus drawn off, and although the British force was now more than ‘doubled; their retreat still wore the aspect of a flighli The Americans filled the heights that over hung the road, and at every defile the strug gle was sharp and bloody. At West Cam bridge, the gallant Warren, never distant when danger was to he braved, appeared in the field, and a musket ball soon cut oil’ a lock of hair from his temple. General Heath was with him, nor does there appear till this moment, to have been any effective command among the American forces. Below West Cambridge, the militia from Dorchester, Roxbury, and Brookline came up. The British field-pieces began to lose their terror. A sharp skirmish followed, and many fell on both sides. Indignation and outraged humanity struggled on the one hand, veteran discipline and desperation on the oth er ; and the contest in more than one instance, was man to man, and bayonet to bayonet. ‘Fhe British officers had been compelled to descend from their horses to escape the cer tain destruction, which attended their expos ed situation. The wounded, to the number of two hundred, now presented the most dis tressing and constantly increasing obstruc tion to the progress of the march. Near one hundred brave men had fallen in this disas trous flight; a considerable number had been made prisoners, a round or two of ammuni tion only remained; and it was not till late in the evening, nearly twenty-four hours from the time when the first detachment was put in motion, that the exhausted remnant reach ed the heights of Charlestown. The boats of the vessels of war were immediately em ployed to transport the wounded; the re maining British troops in Boston came over to Charlestown to protect their weary coun trymen during the night; and before the close of the next day the royal army was for mally besieged in Boston.” THE PHILADELPHIA DUN. One day, no matter when, a stranger was seen riding slowly through the streets of a flourishing town in Tennessee. He was a well dressed, good lookingyoungman, mount ed upon what in this country would he called “the best kind of a nag.” His appearance, altogether, was respectable enough; it was even, as respects exteriors, a touch above what is common ; and he would have passed along unnoticed, had it not been for one thing, which excited universal attention. Although the streets were crowded with people, and the fronts of the stores adorned with fine goods and such fancy articles as usually attract the eye—the stranger’s gaze was fixed on vacan cy ; he turned his head neither to the right nor to the left; he moved not lip nor eye-lid, but rode forward, as ifapparently unconscious, as well of his own existence, as of the pres ence of his fellow creatures. It was court week, and an unusual con course of people was collected. Here was the judge, with a long train of lawyers. The candidates for office were here distributing smiles and kindness, and practicing all those popular arts, which are so well understood in every republican country. Here was the thr iller, clad in his neatest homespun, and mount ed on his best horse. Here was the hunter with his rifle. Here, in short, were the people; collected, some for pleasure, and some for business, exhibiting that excitement of feeling which crowds always produce, with a good humor which is only found in countries where all are free and equal. The public square exhibited a scene which would have been amusing to one unaccustomed to such displays of character. At one spot were two neigh bors driving a bargain. Unlike the people of other countries, who transact such business in private, they were surrounded by a host of people, who, occasionally threw in their com ments. A stranger, judging from the sly jokes, the loud bantering, and the vociferous laughter which passed round the circle, would not have supposed that any serious business was in hand; a resident only, would infer, that before this little circle parte, a horse would be swapped, a crop of tobacco sold, or a tract of land conveyed. Not far oft’ was a set of politicians, settling the affairs of the nation. But the most amusing individuals were some two or three who were cavorting. Now, if any lady or gentleman is so ignorant of the American language as not to know what ca vorting is, and if Webster’s celebrated quarto does not furnish the definition, it is necessary that we explain, that it expresses the conduct of an individual who fancies himself the smar test and best man in the world. On the pres ent occasion a fellow might be seen, dressed in a hunting shirt with a rifle on his shoulder, mounted, half tipsy, upon a spirited horse, and dashing through the crowd. Now he would force his spurs into his horse’s sides, and put him at full speed, or reign him up un til he reared on his hinder feet; and now he would command him to stop, and the obedi ent animal would stand and tremble. All the time he was ranting and roaring in praise of himself, his horse, and the United States of America. He boasted that he was bom in the woods; that he could tote a steamboat and outrun a streak of lightning; that his wife was as handsome as a pet fawn, and his chil dren real roarers. He bestowed similar en comiums on his horse ; and finally avowed himself to be a friend to the United Suites of America —and then he commenced again and went over the same round, nourishing his ritle all the time, and exerting his lungs to the ut most. Although he often declared that he could whip any man in the world, except Col. C. that he JU under at New Orleans, no body accepted the challenge, or took offence; the whole being considered as a matter of course, and as thiMiatural effect of stimulat ing potations upon an illiterate man of ardent temperament, who, when duly sober, was an honest, quiet and inoffensive citizen. While the people were amused at the va garies of this wild hunter, or engaged in con versation, the sun had gone down, and it was nearly dusk when the moving automation, de scribed in the commencement of this story, rode solemnly into town. It is customary in this country for persons who meet, although unacquainted, to salute each other, and this courtesy is especially practiced towards stran gers ; and although the new comer on this occasion, would not have been expected to address each individual in a crowded street, yet, when those who were nearest nodded or spoke as they civilly opened the way, they were surprised to see the horseman’s gaze fixed on vacancy, and his body remaining as erect as if tied to a stake. .‘‘Tliat man’s asleep,” sai l one. “He’s as blind as a bat,” said another. he’s sort o’doad,” exclaimed a * “He rides an elegant nag,” remarked a fourth; and all were surprised that a man, who was apparently so good a judge of a horse, had not wit enough to see where he was going, or to know who were around him. In the mean while our traveler moved proud ly on, until he reached the best inn; a fine brick building, presenting every indication of neatness, comfort, and even luxury. As he rode up, two well-fed, athletic negroes, with visages like polished ebony, and teeth as white as snow, rushed forth, and while one seized his bridle the other held his stirrup as he dis mounted. Still the automaton relaxed not a muscle; but drawing up his body, moved ma jestically towards the house. At the door he was met by the landlord, a portly, well dress ed man, with a fine open countenance, who had been honored by his fellow citizens with several civil appointments, and had even com manded some of them in the field, in times of peril. He touched his hat as he welcomed the stranger, and invited him into his house with an air of dignity and hospitality. A ser vant took his surtout, and several gentlemen who were seated round the fire, pushed back their chairs to make room for the stranger. But all these things moved not the automaton; the glazed eye and compressed lip were still fixed, and the chin remained in the cushion of an immense cravat After a momentary pause the gentlemen in the room resumed their conversation, the landlord applied him self to the business of his house, and the si lent traveler was consigned to the oblivion which he seemed to covet; and excited no more attention except from an honest back woodsman, who strolled in to take a peep, and after gazing at him fora quarter of an hour, suddenly clapped his hands, and exclaim ed, “it moves, Bill! if it an’t alive, I’ll agree to go afoot as long as I live.” By this time candles were lighted, and the silent gentleman seemed to grow weary of silence. He now rose and strutted across the apartment, with a very important stride. He was a young man of about two and twen ty ; of ordinary height, and less than ordinary thickness. Ilis person seemed to he com pressed with corsets, and his head was sup ported by the cars upon a semicircle of stiff ened linen, which occupied the place of shirt collar; and all his habiliments announced him to the eyes of the curious, as a genuine specimen of that genus, the dandy. After taking several turns through the apartment, he drew forth his gold repeater, and opening his mouth for the first time, exclaim ed in a peremptory tone, “landlord ! 1 want supper!” “You shall have it, sir,” said the landlord, with a bow, and winking at the same time at the other guests, “we had supped when you arrived, but will not detain vou many min utes.” In a short time, supper was announced, and the stranger was shown into a back room, handsomely furnished, where a neat, elderly matron presided at the head of a table spread with tea, coffee, bread, cakes, beef, pork, ba con, venison, fowls and all that profusion of eatables with which western ladies delight to entertain their guests. Near her sat a young lady, modestly attired, in the bloom of youth and beauty, whose easy manners and engag ing appearance, might have warmed any heart not callous to the charms of native elegance. Now indeed, our dandy opened both month and eyes to some purpose. Scarcely deign ing to return the salutation of his hostess, he commenced the work of havoc—fish, flesh, and fowl vanished from before him; his eyes roved from dish to dish, and then wandered ofl’ to the young lady; now lie gazed at a broiled chicken, and at the fair niece of the landlord—but which he liked best, I am una ble to say; the chicken seemed to go off very well, but on the subject of the damsel, he nev er opened his mouth. Returning again to the sitting apartment, he found the same set of gentlemen whom he had left there, still engaged in conversation. They were the judge, the lawyers, and other intelligent men of the country, who were not a little amused'at the airsofonrdandy. Again they opened their circle to receive him, but his eyes, his mouth, and his heart, if he had one, were closed against everything but the contemplation ofhis own important self. Af ter drawing his boots, picking his teeth, and puffing a cigar, he again opened his mouth, with, “Landlord! I want to go to bed!” “Whenever you please, sir.” “I w’ant a room to myself, sir!” “I do not know how that will be,” replied the landlord, “my house is full, and.l shall be compelled to put you in the room ith some of these gentlemen.” “I can’t go it sir!” replied the dandy strut ting up and down: “never slept in the room with any body in nay life, sir! and never will, must have a room sir!” The landlord laughed outright at the airs of the coxcomb, and then §aid, very good hu moredly, “well, I’ll go and talk with my wife, and see *vhat we can do.” “My dear,” said the landlord as he entered the supper-room, “here’s a man who says h 1 * must hatfc a room to himself.” “What, that greedy little man in corsets ?■’* “The same.” “Sethim up with a room,” exclaimed tho landlady. “He is a trifling felsn\v,” said the landlord, “but rs wo can accommodate the pool - little man, we had better do’sov’ The lady professed her readiness to dis charge the rites cf hospitality, but declared that there was not a vacant apartment in tho house. “Give him my room, aunt,” said the pretty niece, “1 will sleep with the children, or any where you please.” The young lady was a visitor, and a great favorite, and the ei der lady was altogether opposed to putting her to any discomfort, particularly on ac count of such a rude man. But the niece carried the point, and arrangements were made accordingly. In a lew minutes, the silent man was conduc t'd by the landlord to a very handsomely furnished apartment in the back part of tho house. Uvery thing here was of the best and neatest kind. A suit of curtains hung around the bed, the counterpane was white as snow, and the bed-linen was fresh and fragrant. The dandy walked around the room, examin ing every thing with the air of a man who fancied his life in danger from some contagi ous disease, or venomous reptile. He then threw open the bed clothes, and after inspect ing them exclaimed, “I can’t sleep in that bed!” “Why not, sir?” inquired the - astonished landlord. “It’s not clean! I can’t sleep in it!” re peated the dandy,-strutting up and down with the most amusing air of self importance, “I wouldn’t sleep in that bed for a thousand dol lars!” ! “Take esre what you say,” said tho land | lord; “you are not aware that I keep the best | house in the country, and that my wife is j famed for the cleanliness of her house and I beds!” i “Can’t help it,” replied the dandy, very de ! liberately surveying himself in a mirror, “very sorry, sir,—awkward business to be sure — but to be plain with yow, l won’t steep in a dirty bed to please any man.” “You wont, wont you ?” “No sir, I will not!” “Then I shall make you !” said the land lord, and seizing the astonished dandy by tho back of the neck, he led him to the bed, and foreed his face down upon it—“look at it,” continued the enraged Tennessean, examine it—smell it—do you call that bed dirty, you puppy ?” Then going to the door, he called to a servant to bring a horsewhip; and in formed the terrified dandy, that unless lie un dressed and went to bed instantly, he should order his negro to horsewhip him. In vain the mortified* youngster promised to do all that was required of him; the landlord would trust nothing to his word, but remained until his guest was disrobed, corsets and all, and snugly nestled under the snow-white coun terpane. It was nearly breakfast time when the crest fallen stranger made his appearance in the morning. To his surprise, his steed, who had evidently fared as well as himself, stood ready saddled at the door. “Pray, sir,” said he to his host, in a very humble tone, and in a man ner which showed him at a loss how to begin a conversation, “pray, sir, at what hour do you breakfast ?” “We breakfast at eight,” was the reply.— “but the question is one in which you can have little interest: for you must seek a meal elsewhere.” “Surely, m3’ dear sir, you would not treat a gentleman with such indignity'—” “March!” said the landlord. “My bill ” “You owe me nothing; I should think my self degraded by receiving your inqpey.” In another moment, the self important mor tal, who had the evening before ridden through the town with such a consciousness of his own dignity, was galloping away, degraded vexed and humbled. As he passed along, the same backwoods man, who had gone to ascertain the fact bf his vitality, on his first arrival, met him, and putting off his hat, said, very civilly', “stran ger, your girth is under your horse!” The dandy reigned up his steed, jumped off, and found that his girth was indeed under his horse—where it ought to be. “Do you mean to insult me?” exclaimed ho turning fiercely upon the backwoodsman; but the latter, instead of replying, coolly re marked to his companions, “if it ain’t alivo ; I’ll agree to he shot,” and walked on. “Who is that young man?” inquired the judge of the circuit court, as the stranger rode ofi’. “He is a Philadelphia Dun,” replied tho ilandlord. “I am no wiser than before,” said his hon or. “Have you lived in this country so long, and not know this race of men? They are j collectors, sent out by eastern merchants to 1 collect their debts. Although they coinc from different cities, they all go under the general j denomination; some of them are fine young men ; but too many are like yonder chap. “But how do y'ou know this to be one | of them? “Oh, bless you, I know them well. I read | the history of that youth in his motions, be fore he was in my house five minutes. One ! year ago he could bow and smilelike a French dancing master, skip overa counter, and plav |as many tricks as a pet monkey. He is just i out of his apprenticeship, promoted to the ! dignity of a dun, and mounted on a fine horse | and j'ou know the old proverb, ‘set a beg | gar on horseback— * ” | “I understand the whole matter,” replied S the judge, and very gravely walked into tho ! house, while the other members of the bar were roaring with laughter at this adventure of the Philadelphia Dun. Didn’t want to Quarrel. —There is a noted mail contractor in Romney-, N. H., who can tell as big a story as most of ’em, and who possesses one of the best natured, most accommodating dispositions in the world. ‘I was passing through New Jersey,’ said he, ‘a few 3-ears since, and there came by us, in the air a flight of crows, nine miles long , and so thick was the flock you couldn’t see the sun for ’em !’ The contractor told this in a tavern, where several persons were standing about, one of whom—a coarse limbed, heavy- featured son of the Granite State—ventured to querry the correctness of the assertion. • ‘Hoic long did you say, nabor ?’ ‘Nine miles, sir.’ ‘Don’t b’lieve it,’ was the reply. ‘M al, look ere—you,’ said the contractor— ‘your a stranger, and I don’t want ter quar rel with yer. So, to please you —l’ll take off a quarter of a mile from the thinest part!’ The stranger was perfectly satisfied. Died. —On the 3d instant, Mr. W. P. Hale’s left whisker, to a deep black. It has left be hind it a red whisker, inconsolable for its loss. NO. 20.