Newspaper Page Text
SOUTHERN
RECORDER.
so
ft VOL. II.
MILLEDGEVILLE, TUESDAY. SEPTEMBER 11, 1821.
No. 31
PUBLISHED WEEKLY,
(OH TDESDAVS)
MY S. GRA.YTLAJYD Sf R. M. ORME,
•AT THREE DOLLARS, IN ADVANCE, OR FOUR
DOLLARS AT THE EXPIRATION 0/ THE
Tear.
ttJ* Advertisements conspicuously inserted M
the customary rates.
GEN. JACKSON’S ADDRESS
TO THE ARMY.
T liis address will find its way directly
to the bosoms of those to whom it is
made. It breathes the strong feelings
of a soldier, taking an affectionate fare
well of his companions in arms—those
with whom he had passed “ days of toil
and nights of vigilance”—those to whom
he was bound by the lasting ties of mutu
al peril and privation, in the service of a
beloved country.
It is a tribute of justice and feeling
alike honorable to the General and Ins
gallant associates of the army.
[jYew Orleans Adv.]
HEADQUARTERS. >
DIVISION OF THE SOUTH. $
Montpelier, 31*1. nap, tail.
This day, officers and soldiers, closes
my military functions, and consequently,
dissolves the military connection, which
has hitherto existed between yon and
invself as the commander of the South
ern Division of the Army of the United
States. Many of us have passed to
gether days of toil and nights of vigi-
lence. Together we have seen the ter
mination of one British, and two Indi
an wars, in which, we have encountered
fatigues, privations and dangers. At
tachments and friendships, formed by as
sociations of this kind, are the most du
rable, and my feelings will not permit
me, in retiring from roy military com
mand, to take a silent leave of my com
panions in arms.
Justice, to you and to my own feelings,
requires that 1 should place before our
common country, the testimony of my
approbation of your military conduct,
and the expression of my individual re
gard. Under the present organization
fur the reduction of the army, agreeably
to the net of congress, many valuable
officers, who have served with me, have
been suddenly deprived of the profession
which they had embraced, and thrown
upon the world. But let this he your
consolation, that the gratitude of your
country still cherishes you as her defen
ders and deliverer*, while wisdom con
demns the hasty and ill-timed policy
which has occasioned your disbandment,
and that too, while security was yet to
be given to our extensive frontier by the
erection of the necessary fortifications
for its defence, greatly extended as that
frontier has been by the recent acquisi
tion of the Floridas. But you, fellow-
soldiers, have that which cannot he ta
ken from you, the consciousness ofhav
ing done your duty, and with your bro
ther officers who are retained, of having
defended the American Eagle wherever
it was endangered.
To you, my brother officers, who are
retained in the service ofyour country,
permit me to recommend the cultivation
of that harmony and friendship towards
each ether, which will render you a band
of brothers. It is your duty so to con
duct yourselves on all occasions, as that
vour enemies shall have no just cause
far censure. It ought to be borne in
mind, that every captain should be to his
company, ns a father, and should treat it
ns his family, as his children. Conti
nue, then, as heretofore, when under my
command, to watch over it with a fa
ther’s tenderness, and care. Treat
them like children, admonish them, and
if unhappily, admonition will not have
the desired effect—coercion must. The
want of discipline and order, will inevi
tably produce a spirit of insubordination,
,-is destructive to an army as cowardice,
and will as certainly lead to disaster and
disgrace in the hour of battle : this, as
\ou regard your military reputation and
vour country’s good, you must prevent.
Imploring from Heaven a blessing on you
-11 1 bid vou an affectionate adieu.
’ ANDREW JACKSON,
Major-General, Commanding the
Division of the South.
Mote.—My official duties having pre
vented the promulgation of this order
until this time, an opportunity has been
afforded of seeing the “ General Order’’
dated “ Head-Quarters of the Annv of
the Uaited States, Washington City
June 1st, 1821,’’signed “Jacob Brown.’
Justice to the officers of the Southern
Division, as well as to myself, conroc i
me to offer some remarks upon the fol
lowing extract from that order.
<i The prevalence of desertion has
been an evil of serious magnitude and
£ doe* not appear to be just.hed by a
view of the past condition of the milita
ry establishment. All research in this
field for its causes has been unsatisfacto
ry The character of the military pro-
fession is honorable ; the soldier .s as
well provided with comforts as the citi
zen. in common life, and bis occupation
is neither more offensive nor more labo
rious. There arc restless, discontented
ajnriti ia evepr iphercofkfc* "b» ch 00
indulgence nor ki .alness can bind to sta
bility ; but these examples do not exist
in sufficient number to justify the range
desertion has taken in the army. The
evil must he referred in a degree to an
undue severity, or to the absence ofsys
tem in the conduct of officers towards
their men. The officer is the deposito
ry of the rights of the soldier, nnd the
obligation of his office, as well as the
laws of honor nnd humanity, claim a
fiithful execution of the trust. When
the soldier ceases to regard the officer
as his protector, the authority with which
the laws invest the latter, lose its effica
cy in his estimation. The surest remedy
for the evil of desertion is contained in a
rigid and steady discipline. To be salu
tary, it must possess both these qualities,
but no violation of law can be deemed
essential to its enforcement. Its effect
upon the soldier becomes impaired the
moment he feels that the system which
governs him is fluctuating in its course,
or that it violates the principles upon
which it is founded. The certainty of
laws constitutes their principal efficacy,
and, however severe restrictions may
be, they are obeyed so long as they are
dispensed by the hand ofjustice, and not
of oppression.”
This censure is too general to be just.
The time at which it is made, ahd the
source whence it comes, have astonished
every generous soldier.
The part which attributes, “in a de
gree to an undue severity, or to the ab
sence of system, in the conduct of offi
cers towards their men,” the unexam
pled prevalence of desertion in our ar
my, so far as relates to the Division of
(he South, I do unhesitatingly say, is not
founded in fact. It ia due to candor and
truth, to attribute this reason to its re d
cause. This will be found to exist in
the want of adequate punishment for the
crime of desertion. That, prescribed
by law, in a state of peace, transcend*
the offence, and no other certain punish
ment is authorised. While this is the
case, desertion will encrease, let the
conduct of the officers towards their
men, be ever so lenient. It is a well
known fact, that more desertions have
taken place at recruiting rendezvous,
than have occurred in the regiments ;
and at no recruiting rendezvous in the
division of the south, has there been, a
far as 1 have been informed, any p in
ishment inflicted upon soldiers, except
ing by the civil authority. It is well
known that in many instances, the soldier
has found it a source of speculation to go
from rendezvous to rendezvous, enlist
ing, receiving (lie bounty, ami deserting.
In some ’-lstances, this has been prac
tised from Boston to New Orleans.
The punishment at present inflicted
for desertion, is hard labor with the ball
and Chain ; but this hears more heavily
upon the faithful soldier, who is compel
led to guard the convict under a hot sun,
with all his accoutrements on, than it
does upon him whom it is intended to
punish. Every desertion, therefore,
but adds to the duties, and increases the
fatigues of the faithful and trusty soldier.
And suppose the convict will not labor,
by what means is he to he corrected ?
Stripes and lashes are prohibited ; there
are no dungeons guard; houses are plea
sant places for the lazy, worthless soldi
er, who sleeps and snores, while the
faithful centinel is at his post, on his
nightly watch, guarding him. Is not
this, with the general pardons so fre
quently extended by the orders of the
President, calculated to cause (lie best
soldiers, who are oppressed with dou
l»le duty in guarding the worst, to me
ditate desertion also ?
The government must annex an ade
quate and certain punishment for the
crime of desertion ; nnd, experience
compels inc to say it, although at vari
ance with the more refined and sensitive
feeling of the day ; must restore corpo
ral punishment in the regulations tor the
government of the army, as it formerly
existed, and as it now exists in the navy,
or desertion and insubordination will
still increase. But it is said to be dis
honorable. Why should it be more so
in the army, than in the navy ? Is it
more dishonorable to receive twenty-
five stripes and be ordered to immediate
duty, than to he inarched with chains for
months and years, an object of disgust to
every freeman who sees him, more pro
perly an appendage of ancient despotism,
than any tiling belonging to republican
institutions? Let the deserter in time
of peace, for the first offence, receive
thirty-nine stripes ; for the second dou
hlc that number ; and for the third let
him receive the highest penalty ot the
law. I will venture to say, that a few
examples will put an end to that extraor
dinary frequency of desertion which at
present prevails, and the cause of which
has been so unjustly imputed “ to an
undue severity, or to tbe absence of sys
tem in the conduct of officers towards
their men. I sincerely regret the cause
which has given rise to these remarks
but the reputation of those officers, ir
common with whom I have encountered
so many toils and dangers, is dear to me
and 1 cannot remain silent when 1 per
ceive an unjust attempt to tarnish their
well-earned fame, let the motives which
dictated the objectionable passage in the
order be what they may. These re
marks, my brother officers, flow from a
pure source of justice to you. Popula
rity I have never sought. I have pur
sued the course which I deemed right,
and have done justice to all according to
my best judgment: this, I trust, I have
rendered to you all, during the time I
had the honor to command you—and that
happiness may attend you all, and that
your country may duly appreciate your
worth, as her citizen-soldiers, shall be
my last and most sincere praye.r.
ANDREW JACKSON.
21st July, 1821.
from hijmbolut's travels.
MATERNAL ATTACHMENT.
In 1797, the missionary of San Fer
nando had led his Indians to the Banks
of the-Rio Guaviare, on one of those hos
tile incursions, which are prohibited,
alike by religion and the Spanish laws.
They found in an Italian hut, a Uua-
liibi mother with three children, two of
whom were still infants. They were
occupied in preparing the flour of Cassa-
Resistance was impossible ; the fa
ther was gone to fish, and the mother
tried in vain to flee with her children.
Scarcely had she reached the savannah,
when she was seized by the Indians of
the mission, who go to hunt men, like the
whites and the negroes in Africa. The
mother and her children were bound nnd
dragged to the banks of the river. The
monk seated in his boat, waited the issue
of an expedition, of which lie partook
not the danger. Had the mother made
too violent a resistance, the Indians
would have killed her, for every thing
is permitted when they go to the con
quest of souls (a la eonquista espiritual,)
and it is children in particular they seek
to capture, in order to treat them, in the
mission, ns poitos, or claves of the Chris
tians. The prisoners were carried to
San Fernando in the hope, that (lie mo
ther would be unable to find ber way
back to ber home, by land. Far from
those children who had accompanied
their fattier on the day in which she had
been carried off, this unhappy woman
showed signs of the deepest despair.—
She attempted to take back to her family
the children who had been snatched a-
way by the missionary, and fled with
them repeatedly from the village of San
Fernando, but the Indians never failed
to seize her anew ; and the missionary,
□tier having caused her to be mercilessly
beaten, took the cruel resolution of se
parating the mother from the two chil
dren who had been carried off with her.
She was conveyed alone towards the
missions of the Rio Negro, going up the
Atabapo. Slightly bouiid, she was sea
ted at the bow of the boat, ignorant of
the fate that awaited her ; but she judg
ed, by the direction of tbe sun, that she
was removed farther and farther from
her hut and her native country. She
succeeded in breaking her bonds, threw
herself into the water, and swam to the
left bank of the Atabapo* The current
carried her to a shelf of rock, which
bears her name to this day. She landed,
and took shelter in the woods, but the
president of the missions ordered the In
dians to row to the shore, and follow the
trace of the Guahibi. In the evening
she was brought back. Stretched upon
the rock (la Ficdra de la Madre) a cru
cl punishment was inflicted on her with
those straps of manatee leather, which
serve for whips in that country, and with
which the alcadcs arc always furnished
This unhappy woman, her hand* lied
behind her hack with strong stalk? of
mavacurc, was then dragged to the mis
sion of Javita.
“ She was there thrown into one of the
cararanseras that are called Casa nri
nnv. It was the rainy season, and the
night was profoundly dark. Forests,
till then believed to be impenetra
ble, seperated tbe mission of Javita
from that of San Fernando, which was
twenty-five leagues distant in a straight
line. No other part is known than that
of the rivers ; no man ever attempted to
go by land from one village to another,
were they only a few leagues apart.—
But such difficulties do not stop a mo
ther w ho is seperated from her children.
Her children are at San Fernando de
Atabapo, she must find them again, she
must execute ber project of delivering
them from the hands of cliristians, of
bringing them back to her father on the
hanks of the Guaviare. The Guahibi
was c .ridessly guarded in the caravan-
*era. Her arms being wounded, the
Indians of Javita had loosened her bonds,
unknown to the missionary nnd the nl-
rades. She succeeded, by the help of
her teeth, in breaking them entirely, dis
appeared during the night, and at the
fourth rising sun was seen at the mission
of San Fernando, hovering around the
but where her chiIJren were confined.
“ What that woman performed,” added
the missionary who gave us this sad nar
rative, “ the most robust Indian would
not have ventured to undertake. She
traversed the woods at a season when
the sky is constantly covered with clouds,
and the euiq during whole days, appears
but a few minutes. Did the course of
the waters direct her way ? The inun
dations of the river forced her to go far
from the Banks of the main stream,
through the midst of woods where
the movement of the waters is almost
imperceptible. How often must she
have been stopped by the thorny linias,
that form a net work around the trunks
they entwine ? how offen must she have
swam across the rivulets that run into the
Atabapo ? This unfortunate woman was
asked how she had sustained herself du
ring the four days. She said, that ex
hausted with fatigue, she could fiad no
other nourishment than those great black
ants called vachacos, which climb the
trees in long bands to suspend on them
their resinous nests. We pressed the
missionary to tell us whether the Guahi
bi had peacefully enjoyed the happiness
of her children, and if any repentance
had followed the excess of cruelty. He
would not satisfy our curiosity ; hut at
our return from the Rio Negro, we learn
ed that the Indian mother was not allow
ed time to cure her .wounds, but was a-
gain separated from her children, nnd
sent to one of the missions of the Upper
Oronoko. There she died, refusing all
kind of nourishment, as the savages do in
great calamities.
HENRY M. DE LA TUDE.
FROM THE LITERARY GAZETTE.
In the year 1749, Henry M. de la Til
de, son of a knight of the order of St.
Louis, was sent to the Bastile, for the
grave offence of having sported with the
feelings of Madame Pompadour, the ce
lebrated mistress of Louis XIV. With
the thoughtless warm enthusiasm of a
young man, he had it seems attached
himself to the cause ofthis woman in de
fence of her character, against the fana
tics of the day. He wished to do her
some ostensibly good office, and sighed
to render himself of consequence in her
esteem. Having heard that she was un
happy from the apprehension of poison,
La Tude waited on Madame Pompadour,
it Versailles, to acquaint her that he had
seen a parcel put into the post office ad
dressed to her ; & at the same time ex
pressed his suspicions relative to the
contents of it, nnd cautioned the marchi
oness to beware. The parcel arrived
of course, La Tude himself haring put
it into the Post office ; but the powder
proved ou chemical experiment to be
perfectly innocent. The result gave lh£
marchioness an insight into Lu Tude’s
design ; and, offended at his presump
tion, she had him sent to the Bastile as
an impostor.
La Tude with great ingenuity effected
his escape from prison ; and feeling un
conscious of any crime demanding se
verity of punishment, he went and vol
untarily surrendered himself to the King.
Unhappy man ! Victim of the caprice &
cruelty of a woman! The unfeeling
marchioness, piqued at his placing more
confidence in the king than herself, made
such representations to his majesty, that
he ordered La Tude back to the same
prison, and to be immured in one of its
most dreary chambers—a dungeon !
where another prisoner of the name of
Delegree, was also confined by order of
the marchioness.
Yet even from this imprcgnabla for
tress of barbarity, where no wealth could
bribe—where no instrument of any kind
was allowed, did La Tude and his com
panion, without money and unaided, ef
fect their escape.
They had neither scissors, knives, nor
any edged instrument; and for uu hun
dred guineas, the turnkey would not
supyly them with an ounce of thread.
Upon making the calculation of the dif
ficulties to be encountered, they found
that they required fourteen hundred feet
of cordage ; tow bidders of wood and
rope* from twenty to twenty-five feet
long* and another of a hundred and eizht
feet in length. It was necessary to dis
place several iron grates from the chim
ney ; and in one night to make a hole
in the wall several foet thick at the dis
tance of only fifteen feet from a sentinel.
The wooden ladder and that of rope,
when made, must be concealed ; and the
officers, accompanied by the turnkeys,
came to visit uud search them several
times a week. They had to make and
do all these tilings lo accomplish their
design ; and they had nothing but their
hands to effect it with.
The hand, to those who know its use,
i? the instrument ofall instruments. The
iron hinge of the table was, by whotting
on a tiled floor, converted into a knife.—
With this, liars were removed and a saw
constructed ; wood was concealed from
the daily fuel to construct the ladders.
La Tude’s portinantna contained twelve
dozen of shirts, and other articles of ap
parel, out of which they made the 1400
feet of rope. The bars in the chimney
took six months to displace ; and the
whole of these preparations cost eighteen
months’ work, day and night.
The moment of attempting their dan
gerous enterprise now arrived ; one
night after supper, La Tude first as
cended the chimney, and drew the ropes,
iron bars, &c. up after him, leaving a
sufficient quantity of the ladder in the
chimney to enable his companion to as
cend with less difficulty.-—Being now on
the top, they drew up the rest of the
ladder ; and then descended at once on
the platform serving as a counterpoise to
each other. They next fixed their lad
der to a piece of cannon, and let it gently
into the fosse ; by which means they de
scended with their iron bars, wooden
ladder and all their equipage. During
all this time, the sentinel was not more
than ten fathoms from them, walking up
on the corridor.
This prevented them from getting up
to it, to go into the garden, as they first
intended ; they therefore were under
the necessity of making use of their iron
bars. They proceeded straight to the
wall which seperutes the fosse of the
Bastile from that of the garden St. An
toine, between the gnrden and the go
vernor’s house. In this place there for
merly had keen a little fosse, a fathom
wide, one or two feet deep, but now the
water was up to their arm pits.
The moment La Tude began to make
a hole between two stones to introduce
their iron bars hs levers, the round ma
jor passed by with his great lantern, at
the distance of ten or twelve feet over
their heads. To prevent their being
discovered, they sunk up to their chins
in the water ; this ceremoney they were
obliged to repeat every halfhour when
the round came by. At length one large
stone was removed from the wall ; they
attacked a second and afterwards a third,
with equal success ; so that before mid
night they hud displaced several cart
loads ofstones ; and in less than six hours
had entirely pierced the wall, which was
more than four feet and a half thick.—
They drew the portmanlua through the
hole ; abandoning every \hing else with
out regret. They then descended into
the deep fosse of the gate St. Antoine ;
whence, after a narrow escape from per
ishing, they got upon dry ground, and
took refuge at the abbey of St. Germain
des Prez.
La Tude fled to Holland ; but on the
demand of the king of France, he was
delivered up, returned to the Bastile,
and more closely confined than ever.
On the death of Madame Porppadour,
La Tude was informed of it by a writing
placed up at a wnidow in the street, in
consequence of some papers he had
thrown from the Bastile tower.
Most of the prisoners in the Bastile
were on this occasion liberated. The
minister, Sartine, however refused to set
la Tude free, except on a condition
which the unfortunate man, thinking de
rogatory to his honour, would not accede
to, and he was still doomed by the re
morseless revenge of that monster of in
humanity, to remain a prisoner ten feet
under ground, clad in tatters, with a
beard reaching to his feet, no bed but
straw, no provision but bread and water,
over-run with vermin ! Such, alas! con
tinued for many years the wretched si
tuation of the unfortunate La Tude ;
whose only crime was having offended
the favorite of his sovereign 1
The ultimate liberation of La Tude is
not the least wonderful part of his story
A woman named La Gros, walking a*
broad in June, 1781, saw lying in a cor
ner a packet of papers, that had the ap
pearance of having been tumbled in the
dirt. She took it up, & returning home,
read the contents. It proved to be a
memorial, stating part of the misfortunes
of the Sicur La Tude, prisoner in a dun
geon ten feet under ground, on an allow
ance of bread and water, for thirty-four
years !
The good woman was moved with
compassion at the recital of such cruel
suffering, and was incessant in her ap
plications on his behalf to persons of
rank ; till at last she obtained his libera
tion on the 18th of March, 1704, through
the inilocnce of Baron Breteuil, who ac
companied the glad tidings with a grant
to La Tude of a pension of four hundred
livres.
Norfole, August Id.
The Rev’d Mr. Ephraim Baton, who
went out as one of the Government Agents
to the American Colony of free Blacks,
forming on the Coast of Africa, with his lady,
and Nath’l Peck, one of the Colonists who
went from Baltimore, witli the first expedi
tion to Shvrbro’, arrived here yesterday in
the schr. Emeline, capt. Pennington, from
Martinique. They left Sierra Leant- 18th
June, in an English vessel, bound to Bar*
badoes, whence they proceeded to Martin
ique, and sailed thence about 15th July for
Hampton Roads. Mr. Bacon returned homo
in consequence of the health of himself and
lady being much impaired previous to thsir
sailing; we are pleased to state, however,
that they are much recovered by the voy-
age.
By the arrival of Mr. Bacon we have the.
agreeable intelligence ,D..t the Agents had
effected Hip purchase of a tract of land ii"in
the natives, estimated at between 30 end 40
miles square, situated on the river Sit. Jolt <s,
between 5 and 0 deg. N. lat. and about 300
mites distant from Siera Leone. Il is re
presented as remarkably healthy and fertile,
lays high, uud produces Rice of an excellent
quality, Corn and all kinds of tropical grain
and fruits; the water also is very good, and
the river furnishes the best fish and oysters
in abundance—Coffee, Cotton, and Tobac
co, of very good quality grow spontaneously,
the first of which is sold at 4<1 to 6d per
pound. Wo understand t at the purchase
lias been effected upon the most advanta
geous terms, vie: lor an annual supply of
Ruin, Manufactured Tobacco, Pipes, knives,
and a few other articles, the tolal cost of
which, in this country, would not exceed
three hundred dollars per annum. Mr. Wilt-
berger, the other Agent for Government,
Rev’d Mr, Andrus, Agent for the Coloniza
tion Society, ami Mr. and Mrs. Winn, with
all the colonists, enjoyed very good health,
and no siekness of a serious nature had oc
curred among them from tile time of their
arrival until the departure of Mr. Bacon.
Tile prospects of the Colony were consider
ed ns very promising and afford the highest
gratification to the Agents ami Colonists.
We further learn from Mr. Bacon that
there is very good ancliurago off the stile
fixed on for the new settle pent, for vessel:!
of 100 tons, nnd that a ship of the line could
ride, in safety within a few miles of it. The
natives he found very inoffensive and kindly
disposed.
We are indebted to the politeness of Mr.
Bacon, for tile loan of Sierra Leout Gazettes
to Hill June, from which vve make same, very
interesting extracts respecting the Colonists.
Richmond, Aug. 17.
Most Daring Outrage.—Yesterday 14th
ill. about 12 o’clock a negro tuan about two
miles from the town of Cartersviile, with n
gun in his hand, laid violent hands on a very
respectable married woman ; threw her
down, and attempted a rape. Summoning
all her strength, she rose with him, after a.
strong contest, finding Ids efforts unavailing,
lie presented the gun, she seized the muzzle,
and averted it, till her mother whose house
was near, could approach to aid her. She
escaped from him, and as she ran off, he dis
charged the gun at her, but missed bis aim.—
Within an hour after, he appeared at the
house of another very respectable inurried
woman, about 3-4 of a mile distant. She
was gone to the spring : lie waited for her
return ; and immediately, in the. yard, at
tempted to ravish her. Unable to vanquish
her, he drew a knife which she wrested from
him, seeing another suspended at tils side
she grasped that also, and got possession of
it He then sprang at his gun, whic . stood
not far off, hut before he could fire at her,
she had attained the distance of 30 or 40
yards. He put 20 shot into the back of her
neck and head. Not disabled however, she.
succeeded in escaping with hertwo little chil
dren, while he threatened to kill all the white,
women he might meet with. They both
accord in describing him to be a negro of
light complexion, moderate stature, slender
form, and thin visage; clothed in mixed
homespun, a white hut, with black crape ur
ribbon band. One of them thinks he has
scur in his forehead. Tile citizens of Cur-
tersville and its vicinity, will pay a reward
of $100 to any one who shall apprehend tin:
rascal, so that he be brought to condign pun
ishment.—Richmond Enquirer.
Consumption.—A writer in tbe New-
York Commercial Advertiser has tbe follow
ing pertinent remarks on the causes of this
fatal disease:
Taking cold is a check of perspiration, or
discharge through the surface of the body,
by which means so many useless humours
are to pass tiff from the system. This dis
charge is liable to be obstructed many ways.
Tile following are tbe.innst common ones
in ordinary life: Changing thick clothes for
thin ones; going from warm dry rooms, to
sit in damp and cold ones : going when in a
state of perspiration, into the cold air: sleep
ing in damp rooms or beds ; walking or sit
ting in the damp air of the evening, altt.jugh
not unpleasantly cool; and numerous other
ways. If you have committed any of the
above errors, lose no time in opening the
pores—bring on a perspiration if possible—
put your feet into warm water—sip a pint of
water sweetened with molasses, as warm
as you can bear it, going to bed. But if you
fail in the attempt, lose no time in calling on
your family physician, while it is in his pow
er to be useful to you. If you call too late,
it will not be his fault, for he has not time
lo call in every day, and lecture on the pres
ervation of your health. But if you suffer
those humors to remain locked up in the
system, they will find their way to your
lungs, and produce a cough, from that infla-
mation, and in a short time all chance of re
covery Is gone by.
DARING OUTRAGE.
Lvxchburo, (Va.) Aug. 24.
On the evening of the 18th lust, a mur
der of the most atrocious character was
committed in the lower end of the coun
ty of Campbell. A Mrs. Gregory, and
a Mrs. Cramp, in returning from a \isit
in the neighbourhood, about the hour of
twilight, were set upon by two negro
men, who issued from an adjoining thick
et, and without the power of resistance,
or hope of escape, were dragged from the
horse, which they were riding. Mrs.
Gregory was killed on tbe spot, by repeat
ed blows with an axe, and Mrs. Crump,
who hsfd gained a few yards in attempting
to escape, was overtaken, dreadfully bea
ten, her scull fractured with the edge of
the axe, and left for dead by" these dar
ing assassins. The husband of Mrs. Gre
gory who was in an adjoining field, being
alarmed by the shrieks which proceeded
from this scene of carnuge, and appre
hending that the horse on which his wife
and Mrs. Crump rode had run away, re
paired to the spot, where he discovered
the mangled corpse of his wife, in wbojie
arms the murderers bad enclosed her in
fant child unhurt, and thif body of Mrs.
Crump, who still breathed. Whilst tak
ing tbe necessary steps for the removal
oi their bodies, his house was set on fire
by the villains, or their accomplices, and
burnt to the ground, the greater part of
its contents, being fortunately saved.—>
One of the men who had assisted in the
murder, catne up during the buroir
the lioase, and pretended to assist'