Newspaper Page Text
WM. C. RICHARDS, EDITOR.
©riginal soctn).
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
THE PAINTER’S CHORUS.
DEDICATED TO THE NEW-YORK SKETCH CLUB.
BY T. ADDISON RICHARDS.
Princes may dwell in regal state,
And kneeling courtiers ’round them wait;
The purple and the gold to them
To us, the throne in Beauty’s realm !
Chorus. All Nature’s charms, forever new,
From morning sun to evening dew;
Treasures of earth, and sea, and air—
All that is lovely bright and fair —
Is ours!
Let conquerors seek the martial hum
Os trumpet, clarion, fife and drum;
We hear far sweeter strains than these
In sighings of the idle breeze!
Misers may count their hoarded gold,
And leave their treasures still untold,
While we possess the richer dower
Os glittering skies at sunset hour.
We have bright stores of silvery sheen
Upon the brow of Night’s fair queen;
’Tis ours to ken her mystic voice,
And in its gentle tones rejoice.
Our jewels the blue ocean pave,
And dance upon the crested wave ;
For us, the barque that wooes its airs,
Rich arcosies of beauty bears.
Our amethysts bedeck the dawn,
,Our emeralds stud the grassy lawn;
And we resplendent sapphires trace
Through all the wide empyreal space.
We’ve diamonds pure which none outvie
In sparkle of fair woman’s eye;
Upon her cheek our rubies rest,
Our pearls lie nestled on her breaat.
•
We’ve haughty palaces in air;
Proud monarchs may not boast more fair:
And countless elfin spirits still,
With eager haste, perform our will
.
Chorus. Oh silver, gold and jewels rare,
Scatter’d thro’ sea, and earth, and air;
Gay palaces in fairy-land,
And myriad spirits at command,
Are ours.
- (
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
SONG OF THE ANE,
BY CHARLES SOUTH MAN.
Let the poet-lord
Bepraise the sword
That gleams on Conquest’s tracks ;
Be’t mine to prolong
A humbler song
The lay of the Woodman’s Axe.
In the ruddy flood
Os battle’s blood
Its splendour ne’er was dimm’d,
For a gentler fame
Awaits its name
Than e’er the soldier hymn’d.
Like a pioneer,
With words of cheer,
It breaks the forest’s gloom,
And biddeth the rose
Its leaves unclose
And in the desert bloom!
And the palace dome,
Or peasant’s home,
It rears with brave command;
For no tow’ring oak
Its lusty stroke
Could ever yet withstand.
Ho! the Axe is king
Os the wildwood ring,
And of the monarch trees ;
For before his blow
They bow them low
That laugh at the mountain breeze.
2ln jJUustrateir llUckltj Journal of 33cllc$-£cttrco, Science emir tljc slrts.
And its trophies bright
Are truth and light,
And Plenty’s golden store ;
For no drop of teen
E’er dims the sheen
That flash’d in days of yore !
Then praise to the king
Os the wildwood ring,
The woodman’s shining Axe ;
For a gentler fame
Awaits its name
Than the sword on Conquest’s tracks !
Athens, Georgia.
fegenirs of the Heir Ittett.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
THE GHOSTLY MAN-EATER.
BY CHARLES LAN MAN.
There is an idea existing among the Chip
peway Indians, which corroborates a state
ment made by Henry R. Schoolcraft, in his
11 Notes on the Iroquois,” relative to the be
lief that there once existed among the Abo
riginal Tribes, a species of vampire, or ghost
ly man-eater. The Chippeways do not as
sert that there ever lived more than one of
these unearthly beings; but they pretend that
such an one did, and does exist, and that he
has his residence upon an island in the centre
of Lake Superior—which island can never be
seen by mortal man, excepting when dark
ness has settled upon the world. The stories
they relate of his appearaace and deeds, are
horrible in the extreme, and resemble much
the creations of a mind suffering under the in
fluence of the nightmare. For example, they
describe this monster as possessing the mate
rial appearance of the human form —but of
such a nature as not to be susceptible to the
touch. He is said to have the body of a ser
pent, with human legs and arms —all sup
plied with immense nails, which he employs
for the double purpose of digging up the
earth, and dissecting the bodies upon which
he feeds ; his head is like that of the wolf,
and his teeth of a peculiar sharpness.
The deeds which he performs are worthy
of his personal appearance —and some of
them are as follows: When the Indian moth
er, during a long journey, has lost her infant
child, and placed it on the rude scaffold, that
she may return to it at some future day, the
Ghostly Man-Eater only waits until she is
fairly out of his sight, and then proceeds to
the sacred place, and feasts himself upon
the tender flesh and blood of his victim. And
therefore it is, that the traveller sometimes
sees, in the remote wilderness, fragments of
human bones scattered on the ground, as if
a wolf had been suddenly interrupted, while
devouring his prey. But the Man-Eater
sometimes enters the house, or half-buried re
ceptacle of the dead; and, after digging his
way to the decaying body, coils himself up,
as if in delight, and gluts his appetite with
the unholy food. How it is that he travels,
with lightning speed, from one distant place
to another, has never been ascertained ; but
the strange sounds which the Indian occa
sionally hears, high in the air above his wig
wam, is thought to be the song of the Man-
Eater, as he hurries upon the wings of the
wind, from a recent banquet, to his mys
terious island on the Lake.
But I once heard a legend in the Chippe
way country, which accounted for the origin
of the man-eating monster —and I now record
it in the English tongue, for the benefit of
those who feel an interest in the mythology
of the Indian, and the peculiarities of his
mind. The individual from whom I obtain
ed this story was named Ka-yon-kee-ma, or
ATHENS, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, MAY 27, 1848.
the Swift Arrow ; and his words, as near as
I can remember them, were as follows :
I ask the white man to listen. At an ear
ly period in the history of the world, an old
Indian hunter and a little boy, who was his
grandson, lived in an isolated cabin on the
north shore of Lake Superior. They were
the only remnants of a once powerful tribe of
Indians, whose name is not now remembered.
It was the middle of a long and dreary win
ter, and the entire country was covered with
snow, to the height of the tallest wigwam.—
The section of country where resided the hun
ter and child was particularly desolate, and
destitute of almost every species of game;
and while the former was too feeble to wan
der far, after necessary food, the latter was
too young and inexperienced. The very
wood which the unequal pair collected to
keep them warm, was brought to their cabin
with the greatest difficulty; and the thought
occasionally entered the old man’s mind, that
the Great Spirit was about to give him up to
the pains of starvation. He uttered not a
murmur, however; but, as he reflected upon
his impending fate, he bit his lips with a
scornful smile.
One, two and three days had passed away
and the old man, as well as the child, had not
tasted a particle of food. But, on the even
ing of the fourth day, the boy came tottering
into the comfortless lodge and threw at the
feet of his grandfather the lifeless body of a
white partridge, which he had fortunately
killed with his own arrow. Immediately
was the bird divested of its feathers —and,
while yet its very blood was warm, it was
devoured by the starving man and child. —
Sweet was the slumber of the noble boy on
that night —but, as the story goes, that aged
man was visited by a dreadful dream at the
same time, which made him a maniac.
Another day was nearly gone, and the un
happy pair were standing in front of their
wigwam watching the western sky, as the
sun enlivened it with his parting beams.—
The old man pointed to the bright picture,
and told the boy that there was the gateway
to the Spirit Land, where perpetual summer
reigned, and game was found in great abun
dance. He spoke too of the child’s father
and mother, and of his little brother, whom
he described as decked out in the most beau
tiful of robes, as they wandered through the
forests of that distant, shadowy land. The
boy, though suffering with the pangs of hun
ger, clapped his little hands in glee, and told
his grandfather that it would make him very
happy if he could go to the land of perpetual
summer. \nd then it was, that the old man
patted the boy upon his head, and told him
that his desires should be realized before the
sun again made its appearance above the
snow-covered mountains and plains of the
east.
It was now the hour of midnight. In
tensely cold was the wind which swept over
the wilderness, but the sky was very blue,
and studded with many stars. No sound
broke upon the air, save the occasional groan
of the ice along the lake shore, and the his
sing whisper of the frost. Within the Indi
an lodge, which was the very home of deso
lation. the child was sweetly sleeping, envel
oped in his robes, while the old man bent
over the burning embers as if in despair.—
Some inhuman thought had crazed his brain,
and he was nerving himself for an unheard
of crime. One moment more, and in the dim
light of that lonely lodge, gleamed the polish
ed blade of a flinty weapon —a sudden groan
was heard —.and the Indian maniac was feed
ing upon the body of his child.
I have given the white man a sorrowful
VOLUME I.—NUMBER 3,
history, but it is one which the Chippeway
nation believe. On the morning which fol
lowed the event, I have now narrated, a par
ty of Indian hunters came to the cabin of the
unknown man, and they found him lying
dead upon the ground, with the mangled re
mains of the boy at his side. This was the
most terrible deed which ever happened in
the Chippeway country —and the one which
so greatly offended the Great Spirit, that he
pronounced a curse upon the man who had
destroyed his child for food—and he, there
fore, doomed him to live upon the earth for
ever, tormented with an appetite which noth
ing can ever appease, but the decaying flesh
of the human race.
©riginal SEranolcttions.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
LIIiUSSA’S LAMP.
A STORY FROM THF. GERMAN.
BY MARY E. LEE.
[CONCLUDED from our last.]
“It was in the year 1220, when king An
dreas, returning from Palestine, passed
through Bavaria, and was entertained for
some time, at the court of Prince Asan.—
Among his favorite Knights, was Miloknerr
von Dub, a young Bohemian of noble birth,
whose tall, slender figure, raven black hair
falling far down his shoulders, long dark
eyelashes, and sharply cut, but not unhand
some features, betrayed him at the first glance
to be one of that race. Among the Bulga
rian Magnates, and one of the mightiest of
the Bannerers, was Bohoriz, chief cup-bearer
to king Asan, whose territory extended for
miles, at the foot of the Balkan mountains,
and who took a lively interest in Miloknerr,
on account of his deceased wife, who was
also a Bohemian by birth. On a closer ac
quaintance, Bohoraz discovered that the
youth was a distant relation of his deceased
partner, one of whose ancestors had been the
favorite dependant of the Fairy Libussa; and
at length, he became so attached as to invite
the young knight to visit him at his Castle,
which lay in the midst of the mountains; and
as a great inducement, offered a boar hunt,
which he described as a most exciting pas
time. As King Andreas intended remaining
a month longer at Asan’s court, his follower
gladly accepted the invitation, and after a
long journey through lonely woods, and
mountain passes, they at length reached a
lodge, only a few hours distance from Boho
riz’ castle, around which lay his favorite
hunting ground, since here was the residence
of herds of elks, boars and bisons. The
hunt commenced on a cloudy autumn morn
ing. Several hundred tattered Hungarian
serfs, were posted around a forest, almost a
mile in circumference, and which was inter
spersed with swamps and woodland. Milok
nerr chose his place by an old oak, several
hundred steps from his host, and at a bow
shot distance from a swamp, overgrown with
weeds and briars. The master of the hunt
now blew his horn as a signal to commence,
and soon the shouts of drivers and the yelp
ing of hounds, w r ere heard in the distance.
Miloknerr, with his outstretched bow in
hand, and his spear placed on the gnarled
oak beside him, waited the coming sport. —
Soon a fox trotted in the distance; a herd of
deer rushed by next, followed by a monstrous
boar. Miloknerr raised his bow with the in
tention of sending an arrow at the animal,
the gnashing of whose teeth sounded like the