Cherokee phoenix. (New Echota [Ga.]) 1828-1829, July 30, 1828, Image 1
VOL, 1. EDITED BY ELIAS BOUDINOTT. PRINTED WEEKLY BY ISAAC H. HARRIS, FOR THE CHEROKEE NATION, At $250 if paid in advance, $3 in six months, or $3 50 if paid at the end of the year. To subseribers who can read only the Cherokee language the price will be $2,00 in advance, or $2,50 to be paid within the year. Every subscription will be considered as eontinued unless subscribers give notice to the contrary before the commencement of a new year. Any person procuring six subscribers, and becoming responsible for the payment, shall receive a seventh gratis. Advertisements will be inserted at seven ty-five cents per square for the first inser tion, and thirty-seven and a hall cents for each continuance; longer ones in propor tion, ¢ ey ;7 All letters addressed {o the Editor, post paid, will receive due attention. ; AGENTS FOR THE CHEROKEE PHOENIX. The following persons are authorized to receive subscriptions and payments for the Cherokee Pheenix. : Hrewry Hivr, Esq. Treasurer of the A, B. C. F. M. Boston, Mass. GeoreE M. Tracy, Agent of the A, B. €. F. M. New York. _ e < Bey AvD:Froy, Ganandai 3 NX. e B Ere S, X Porrarp & Converse, Richmond, Va. Rev. James CameneLr, Beaufort, S, C. WirLiam Mourtrie Reip, Charleston, . L 7 Col. GeorGEl SvrrH, Statesville, W, T. Wirriam M, Comss, Nashville Ten, Rev. Ben~xer Roeerrs—Powal Me. Mr. Tros. R. GoLp, (anitinerant Gen tleman.) i DESCRIPTION OF CALCUTTA/ From Bishop Heber. Calcutta when seen from the south, on which side it is built, round two sides of a great open plain, with the Ganges on the west, is a very noble city; ‘with tall and stately houses, or namented with Grecian pillars, and each for the most part surrounded by a little apology for a garden. The churches are not large, but very neat and even elegant buildings, and the government house is—to say the least of it, a more showy place than Lon don has to produce. These are how ever, the front lines—behind them ranges the native town, deep black and dingy, with narrow, crooked streets, huts of earth baked in the sun, or of twisted bamboos, interspersed here and there with ruinous brick ba zars, pools of dirty water, cocoa trees, and little gardens, and a few very large, very fine and generally very dir ty houses of Grecian architecture, the residence of wealthy natives. There are some mosques of pretty architec ture, and very neatly kept, and some pagodas, but mostly ruinous and de cayed—the religion of the people be ing chiefly conspicuous in their wor ship of the Ganges, and in some ugly painted wooden or plaster idols, with all manter of heads and arms, which are set up in different parts of the ci ty. Fill up this outline with a crowd of people in the streets beyond any thing to be seen even in Lomi);n, some dressed in tawdry silks and brocades, more in white cotton garments, and most of all black and naked, except a. scanty covering round the waste; be-| sides figures of religious mendicants, with no clothing but their long hair and beards in elf locks, their faces painted white or yellow, their beads i one ghastly lean hand, and the other stretched out like a birds claw, to re “hive donations ; marriage processions, with the bride in a covered chair and the bridegroom on horse back, so swathed round with garlands as hard ly to be seen; tradesmen sitting on the ground in the midst of their differ ent commodities, and old men lookers on, perched naked as monkeys, on the roofs of the houses; carts drawn by oxen, and driven by wild Jooking men with thick sticks, so unmercifully us ed as to undeceive perfectly all our notions of braminical humanity; at tendants with silver maces, pressing through the crowd before the carriage of some great man or other; no wo men seen except of the lowest class, and even these with heavy silver orna ments on their dusky arms and ankles; while coaches, covered up close with red cloth, are seen conveying the in mates of the neighboring seraglios to take what is called ““the air;”’ a con | stant creaking of cart wheels, which are never greased in India, a constant clamour of voices, and an almost con stant thumping and jungling of drums cymbals, &c. in honor of some of their deities; and add to all this, a villain -ous smell of garlic, rancid cocoa-nut oil, sour butter, and stagnant ditches, and you will understand the sounds, sights and smells of what is called the “Black Town” of Calcutta. The singularity of this spectacle is best and least offensively enjoyed on a noble quay, which Lord Hastings built a long the shore of the river, where the vessels of all forms and sizes, Arab, Indian, Malay, American, English— | the crowds of Bramins and other Hin doos washing and saying their prayers, the lighted tapers, which toward sun set they throw in, and the broad bright stream which sweeps by them, guilt less of their impiety, and un o.:"_v.;___ 5 | ‘o% !fi gl\ % !lfi ge I ata\i a scene sucg 1 as no Kuropean, and few Asiatic cities, can at all parallel in interest and sin gularity. MURDERER’S CREEK. The name of Murderer’s Creek is said to be derived from the following incidents: Little more than a century ago, the beautiful region watered by this stream, was possessed by a small tribe of Indians, which has long since become extinct or been incorporated with some other savage nation of the west. Three or four hundred yards from where the stream discharges it self into the Hudson, a white family of the name of Stacey, had establish ed itself, in a log house, by tacit per mission of the {ribe, to whom Stacey had made himself useful by his skill in a variety of little arts highly estimat ed by the savages. In particular, a friendship subsisted between him and an old Indian called Naoman, who of ten came to his house and partook of his hospitality. The Indians never forgive injuries or forgot benefits.— The family consisted of Stacey, his wife, and two children, a boy and girl, the former five, the latter three years old. One day Naoman, came to Stacy’s log hut, in his absence, lighted his pipe and sat down. He looked very serious, sometimes sighed deeply but said not a word. Stacey’s wife ask ed him what was the matter, and if he was sick. He shook his head, sighed, but said nothing, and soon went away. The next day he came again and behaved in the same manner.— Stacey’s wife began to think strange of this, and related it to her hushand, | who advised her tourge the old man to an explanation the next time he came. Accordingly when he repeat ed his visit the day after, she was more importunate than usual. At last the old Indian said, *“I am a red man, and the pale faces are our ene mies; why should Ispeak?” But my husband and I are your friends; you have eaten salt with us a thousand times, and my children have sat on your knee as often. If you have any thing on your mind tell it me. ¢t will cost me my life if it is known, and the white faced-women are not NEW ECHOTA, WEDNESDAY JULY 30, 182 s, good at keéping secrets,” replie;d Naoman. Try me, and see. ¢Will you swear by your Great Spirit, you will tell none but your husband?” 1 have none else to tell. “But will you swear?” Ido swear by our Great Spirit, I tell none but my hus band. ‘Not if my tribe should kill you for not telling?” Not if your tribe should kill me for not telling. Naoman then proceeded to tell her that, owing to some encroachments of the white people below the mountains his tribe had become irritated, and were resolved that night to massacre all the white seitlers within their reach. That she must send for her husband, inform him of the danger, and as secretly and speedily as possi ble take their canoe, and paddle with all haste over the viver to Fishkill for safety. “Be quick, and do nothing that may excite suspicion,” said Na oman as he departed. The ggod wife sought her husband, who was down on the river fishing, told him the story, and as no time was to be l‘oft, they proceeded to their boat, which was unluckily filled with water. (It took some time to clear it out, anh mean while Stacey recollected F\is gun which had been left behind. 'He pro ceeded to the house and returned with it. All this took up considerable time, and precious time it proved to this poor family. The daily visits of old Naoman, and bis more than ordinary gravity, had excited suspicion in some of the tribe, who had accordingly paid particular attention to the movements of Stacy. One of the young Indians who had een kept on the watch, seeing the whole family ahout to take their hoat, an to the little Indian village, about mile off, and gave the alarm. Five ndians collected, ran down to the riy r side where their canoes were moor d, jumped in and paddled after Sta cey, who by this time had got some distance out into the stream. They gained on him so fast, that twice he dropt his paddle, and took up his gun. But his wife prevented his shooting, by telling him, that if he fired, and they were afterwards overtaken they would meet no mercy from the In dians. He accordingly refrained, and plied his paddle, till the sweat rolled in big drops down his forehead. All would not do; they were overta ken within a hundred yards of the shore, and carried back with shouts of yelling triumph. When they got ashore, the Indians set fire to Stacey’s house, and drag ged himself, his wife and children, to their village. Here the principal old men, and Naoman among the rest, assembled to deliberate on the affair. The chiefs among them, stated that some one of the tribe had undoubtedly been guilty of treason, in apprising Stacey, the white man, of the designs of the tribe, whereby they took the alarm, and had well nigh escaped.--- He proposed to examine the prisoners, as to who gave the information. The ‘old men assented to this, and Naoman among the rest. Stacey was first in terrogated by one of the old men, who spoke English, and interpreted to the others. ~Stacey refused to be tray his informant. His wife was then questioned, while at the same moment, two Indians stood threatening the two children with tomahawks in case she did not confess. She at tempted to evade the truth, by declar ing that she had a dream the night be fore which had alarmed her, and that she had persuaded her husband to fly. ‘“The Great Spirit never designs to talk in dreams to a white face,” said the old Indian: “Woman, thou hast two tongues and two faces. Speak the truth, or thy children shall sure ly die.” . The little boy and girl were then brought close to her, and the two savages stood over them, ready to ex ecute their bloody orders. ¢«“Wilt thou name,” said the old In dian, ““the red man who betrayed his tribe. T will ask thee three times.” The mother answered not.---<Wilt thou name the traitor? This is the second time. The peor mother look ed at her husband, and then at her children, and stole a glance at Nao man, who sat smoking his pipe with invincible gravity. She wrung her hands and wept; but remained silent. ““Wilt thou name the traitor? ’tis the third and last time. The agony of the mother waxed more bitter; again -she sought the eye of Naoman, but it was cold and motionless. A pause of a moment awaited her reply, and the next moment the tomahawks were raised over the heads of the children, who besought their mother not to let them be murdered. “Stop,” eried Naoman. = All eyes were turned upon him. “Stop,” re peated he in ‘a tone of authority.— ““White woman, thou hast kept~ thy .word with me to the last moment. lam the traitor. 1 have eaten of the salt, warmed myself at the fire, shar ed the kindness of these Christian white people, and it was I that told them of their danger. Tam a with ered, leafless, branchless trunk; cut me down if you will. I am ready.” A yell of indignation sounded on all sides. Naoman descended from the little bank where he sat; shrouded his face with his mantle of skins and sub mitted to his fate. He fell dead at the feet of the white woman by a blow of the tomahawk. But the sacrifice of Naoman, and the firmness of the Christian white woman, did not suffice to save the lives of the other victims. They per ished---how, it is needless to say; and the memory of their fate hasheen pre served in the name of the pleasant stream on whose bauks they lived and ied, which to this day is called Mur- | 'gééef’s%l'rgekff-Mié .}}Pflrfiifir Traz- : ellers. LEDYARD’S ACCOUNT OF THE NILE. In a letter to Mr. Jefferson, Led yard gives the following account of this river below Grand Cairo: “You have heard and read much ~of the Nile, and so had I; but when I “saw it I could not conceive it to be ‘the same. What eyes do travellers see with?—Are they fools or rogues? For heaven’s sake hear the plain truth about it. First—in regard to its size. Obvious comparisons in such cases are good. Doyou kuow the river Con pecticut? Of all the rivers I have seen, it most resembles that in size. It is a little wider, and may on that account compare better with the Thames. . This is the mighty, the sovereign of rivers, the vast Nile, that has been metamorphosed into one of the wonders of the world. Let me be careful how T read, and above all how I read ancient history. = You have heard and read too much of its inunda tions. llf the thousands of large and small canals from it, and thousands of men and machines employed to trans fer by artificial means the water of the Nile to the meadows on its banks—if this be the inundation that is meant, it is true; any other is false. It is not an inundating river. I came up the river on the 15th to the 20th of August, and about the 20th, the wa ter will be at the height of the fresh - et. Whenl l%gt_the river,.its banks were four, five or six feet above the water, and here in town lam told they expect the Nile to be only one or two feet higher at the most.” 5 In his journal transmitted to the African Society, under date of August 14, 1783, he says— , “The view in sailing up the Nile is very confined, unless from the top of the mast, or some other eminence, | and then it is an unbonnded plain of ‘ excellent land, miserably ecultivdted, ] and interspersed with a great number of villages, both on its banks, and as far along the meadows as one can see in any divection. The river is also filled with boats passing and repassing ~=boats all of one kind and navigated } in one manner, nearly also of one size, the largest carrying ten or fifteen tons. NO, 22. On board of these boats are seen on ions, watermelons, dates, some(imes a horse or camel, (which lies down in the boat,) sheep, goats, dogs, men and women. Towards evening and morn ing they have music.” e From the Philadelphian. PAPAL JURISDICTION IN A . MERICA. The following.is a translation of a recent order from his holiness the Pope of Rome, addressed to Bishop Couwell, of this city. Itisa singu lar specimen of papal authority exer cised over the people of a free coun try. “Most Ilustrious and Most Reverend Sir—We have received the letters of our Grace written op the 14ih of K’ovember, 1827—in which you reply 1o our epistle {ransmitted {0 you on the 11th of August. In our epistle in the name of our most holy Lord Pope, Leo, XII, your Grace was call ed to Rome, aund you were informed that the apostolic administration of your diocese had been committed to R. P. D. Ambrose Marechal. Now I am charged to inform you, that R. P. D. Marechal, Archbishop of Baltimore, will undertake the admin istration en account -of imperfect health. His holiness, therefore has committed again to the sacred congre gation, the duty of informing you, that he expects from you this new testimo uy of obedience towards him and ' the apostolic seat, that without delay, (ommi mora relicia) you Tepair ¢ Rome, where you wil] be recives with that benevolence, ivhich we fully demonstrated in owr former letter. During your zbsence from the Dio ée"i'é'oi“l!—'h'iré“fiélmfi:r,‘"a‘na until it may be otherwise ordered by the apostolic seat, R. D. William Matthews, Pas tor of ‘Washington, deputed by His Holiness as apostolic Vicar general, will assume the government. Final ly, the Rev. William Vincent Harold and John Ryan, by the authority of our Most Holy Lord, are most impor tunately urged (vehementissime excitatos esse.) to leave the Diocese of Phila ‘delphia; and the sacred congregation has expressed its pleasure, that they repair to Cincinnati, and there exe cute the sacred function.” D. Mavrus CARDINAL CAPPELLARI. Latest fromi Ceylon Mission.— A lot ter to a friend of ours from the Rev. ! Miron Winslow, Oodooville, (Ceylon,) January 7, 1828, states that the mis | sionaries - were " all in comfortable health, but more or less affected by their labors and the heat of the cli mate. “Inthe Mission we continue 10 have some encouragement that our work is not in vain inthe Lord, though its progres is slow. The number of natives admitted to the church scarce ly exceeds 100; and though anumber wish for admission, we shall net prob ably receive more than 16 or 18 for two or three months to come. These are to be admitted on the 24th inst. The Seminary is doing as well as could be expected. The students make good progress in mathematics, alge bra, geometry, trigonometry, &ec., and have made some attainments in geography and astronomy. The first class are to leave next September.—— The number now in the Seminayy is 67. In the Preparatory School there are 100, and in the Female Central School, 27. Our Common, Schools are 93 in number, containing . 3,311 boys and 982 girls. The expenses of all th@i[(}ommon Schools] the 1-st year was about 2 500; and of our Boarding Establishments, more than %3‘090,, aside from buildings. &c. &e. But the good done is abundantly. pro ‘portioned to the expense.. To teach this degraded population even to read, and then to give them the Scriptures, what a light is poured in upon them? Heathenism will flee before it.” Comparing this statement with the last accounts contained in the Mission ary Herald, dated fovr months previ ous, it appears that during this inter- ᏣᎳᎩ ᏧᎴᎯᏌᏅᎯ ᎯᎠ ᏂᎦᎥᏧᎬᏩᎶᏗ. ᏑᏫᎾᎪᏓᏖᏆᏍᏗ ᎢᎪᎯᏛ ᏌᏉ ᏧᏂᎴᏴᎪᏘ ᎨᏎᏍᏗ. ᏴᏫᏁᎬ ᏗᏂᏬᏂᏘᏍᎩ ᏦᎢᏁ ᎠᏰᏢ ᎤᎾᎫᏴᏘ ᏥᏎᏍᏗ, ᎢᏳᏃ ᎢᎬᏪᏅᏛ ᎠᎾᎫᏱᏍᎨᏍᏗ. ᎢᏳᏃ ᏑᏓᏢ ᎢᏯᏅᎪ ᎢᏴ ᎠᎾᎫᏱᏍᎨᏍᏗ, ᏦᎢ ᎠᏠᎸ ᎤᎾᏮᎫᏴᏗ ᎨᏎᏍᏗ. ᎠᏕᏘᏱᏍᎬᏃ ᎢᏴ ᎩᎳ ᎠᏮᎫᏱᏍᏢᏍᏘ, ᏅᎩᏁᎢ ᎠᏰᏢ ᎤᎾᎫᏴᏘ ᎨᏎᏍᏗ. ᏣᎳᎩᏃ ᎤᏩᏒ ᏗᏂᏬᏂᏘᏍᎩ, ᏔᏢᏉ ᎠᎨᎸ ᏬᎾᎫᏴᏘ ᎨᏎᏍᏗ ᏑᏕᏘᏴᏛ; ᎢᏅᏃ ᎢᎬᏪᏅᏛ ᎠᎧ” ᎫᏱᏍᎨᏍᏗ. ᏦᎢᏁᏃ ᎠᏰᏢ ᎩᎳ ᎣᏂ ᎤᏕᏘᏴᎯ” “ᏠᏗᏒ ᎠᎾᎫᏱᏍᎨᏍᏗ. -